Flights and Fights
by Neuropsych
Summary: Time for a bit more fun with Harry Potter and SG1. Rated for some possible violence and language... shouldn't be too bad
1. 01

**Flights and Fights**

_Author's Note/ Disclaimer: This is the next installment of my Harry Potter Crossover. If you haven't read The Harry Situation and Prophecies and Perils, you won't understand this story, so you have to read them first. They're not long and they're kind of fun (I think so, anyways) so give them a try and then come back and catch up here._

_The characters I'm using don't belong to me, but I'm using them happily and will not make any money off this story or any that may come later._

_That said… here we go!_

OOOOOOOOOO

"Look, _all_ I'm saying is that it's not real… that's all."

Jack scowled.

"I _know_ it isn't real, Daniel."

"Then why are you _making_ us watch it?"

Jack rolled his eyes and pointed at the TV, where several muscular men who were shining with oil and sweat were pounding the crap out of each other.

"Because it's the only thing on."

Sam shook her head and stood up.

"With all due respect, sir… I have better things to do than sit around watching wrestling. Especially _this_ kind."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"_College_ wrestling is okay," Carter said. "Mark did it when he was in school. It's a real sport with an actual winner and loser. This _professional_ stuff is basically a soap opera with testosterone and really bad acting."

Daniel nodded his agreement.

"There's no baseball on, Carter," Jack told her. "What are we _supposed_ to watch?"

"You have _300_ channels, Jack," Daniel told him, picking up the remote. "There has to be some channel playing something more interesting than wrestling…"

"Fine. _Carter_, you pick the show."

It was obviously his way of getting her to stay, but neither she nor Daniel commented on it as she sat back down on his sofa and reached for the remote Daniel was holding out to her.

"Like what?"

"Anything but something that will _teach_ me something…" Jack said, leaning back into the cushions and taking a drink of his beer. "I want mindless entertainment tonight."

"Cartoons?" she asked, just on this side of sarcastic.

He shot her a look that was amused.

"No. _Sponge Bob_ is a rerun… I saw it this-"

"What is?"

"_Sponge Bob, Square Pants_," Jack explained. "It's about this little yellow guy who lives under the-"

"How about the cooking channel?" Carter asked, flipping channels.

Both men gave her pained looks and she smiled.

"Or not…"

"Why don't…"

A flicker of light outside the window drew Daniel's attention, causing him to trail off, and that caused both of them to look over as well. In the darkness there was another flicker of light, and Jack lunged to his feet, reaching for his gun.

"What the hell…"

The light grew brighter for just a moment, and then vanished, sweeping upward with surprising speed. Jack rushed over to the window, opened it and looked out, only to have Daniel give a startled yelp.

O'Neill and Carter turned and saw the source of the light, now swooping out the fireplace.

It was a bird. Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes.

"What the hell…?" Daniel asked, echoing Jack's own statement of a moment before.

The phoenix squawked and dove straight for Jack, who dodged and tripped against his coffee table, which caused him to fall onto the sofa.

"_Fawkes_…" Sam said, just as startled as the others. "What in the world is-"

There was a flash of brilliant light from the fireplace, and suddenly a figure stepped out.

"Remus!" Daniel said, stepping forward.

The wizard gave them all a tight smile that told them this was clearly not a social call, and spied Fawkes, who had come to rest on the back of the sofa – right behind Jack.

"_That's_ where he went…" the wizard murmured, almost to himself. "We wondered what-"

"What's going on, Remus?" Sam asked, confused – and a little worried. Wizards showing up on your doorstep (or in your fireplace, in this case) just couldn't be a good thing, after all. Especially since they already had plenty of history with the wizarding world – and most of it was bad. "What's Fawkes doing here? Where's Dumbledor-"

"Wait a minute," Jack interrupted, standing up and still holding his gun – although it wasn't pointed at anyone. "I thought only Dumbledore could come here without permission. Isn't he the Trapper Keeper guy?"

"_Secret_ Keeper," Remus said, softly, a pained look flashing across his expression. "Yes, Jack. He is. Or he _was_, anyways."

"_Was_?" Daniel echoed. "What do you-"

"Dumbledore's dead. And you're in terrible danger, Colonel."

The room fell into a shocked silence that was broken only by a mournful call from the phoenix perched close to Jack.


	2. 02

_Author's note: The events of this story are taking place after the events of Book 6, and since I obviously don't have any idea what the official story will be like in book seven (since JK Rowling hasn't told me), this story is purely my own imagination and story line, so if book 7 comes out while I'm writing this and is way off from what I put, don't grumble about it. Okay? Good: D_

OOOOOOOOOO

Jack was the first to find his voice.

"What are you talking about? How can Dumbledore be dead?"

The pain of Remus' expression spoke quite plainly, and he lowered his gaze for just a moment before answering.

"He's dead, Jack. Otherwise I never would have been able to come here."

"You've been here-"

"Dumbledore would have to be with him, sir," Carter said, looking stricken. "And there'd have to be permission from you…"

"But-"

"How did it happen?" Daniel asked.

"What-"

There was another flash from the fireplace and another figure emerged. Just as the group recognized Sirius Black, he was joined an instant later by Arthur Weasley. It was obvious that Remus was right; _any_ wizard could get to Jack's house, now. Dumbledore was truly dead.

"Did you tell them, Remus?" Black asked, shaking soot from his robes as he walked over to Sam. Wonder of wonders, he didn't flirt with her just then, he just gave her a sad smile by way of greeting, his gaze turning immediately to Lupin and Jack.

"I _started_ to…"

"He told us Dumbledore was dead," Jack said. "He didn't tell us how it happened."

"It was _Snape_," Sirius said, darkly. "Dumbledore trusted him, and paid for it with his life."

"He thought he was doing the right thing," Arthur said, mournfully. "He seemed so _certain_ that-"

"Well he was wrong," Black said, angrily – although Jack knew that the anger was just a sign of just how much Sirius was hurting just then. "I _told_ him that he couldn't trust Snape. I warned him that once a Death Eater _always_ a Death Eater, but he-"

"We don't have time for that right now, Sirius," Lupin interrupted. "We need to get them to a safe place. It's not going to take Voldemort long to find out where to find Jack now that… now that the secret's out…"

"Wait a minute," Jack said. "Where's Harry?"

They hadn't mentioned the boy, but Jack knew just how close he and Dumbledore were, and he knew that Harry had to be-

"He's back at his aunt and uncle's," Sirius said. "It's the safest place for him right now."

Sam frowned.

"But-"

"We didn't have any choice, Sam," Remus said. "Professor Dumbledore put the protections on that house – and as far as we know they didn't stop with his death. With Dumbledore out of the way, Harry's a target for all the dark wizards, and his uncle's house is the only place Voldemort can't touch him."

""How long will he be safe there, though?" Daniel asked.

"Not long," Sirius admitted. "We don't think he'll be willing to stay there long, in any case."

"Why not take him to your place?" Jack asked. "_It's_ safe, isn't it?"

"Snape's been there, sir," Sam said. "Even if the magic of the Secret Keeper prevents him from sharing the location, Snape knows where it is and can go back there…"

She looked at the wizards for agreement, and they nodded.

"Exactly," Remus said. "We obviously can't trust Snape not to show up, and we don't dare let Harry get into a situation where he might try to fight Snape…"

"_Fight him_?" Daniel echoed, curiously.

Sirius nodded.

"Harry watched it happen. He saw Snape kill Dumbledore…"

There was a moment of silence in the room while they absorbed that startling and dismaying piece of information, but it was broken by Fawkes, who let out a screech and launched himself off the couch and at Jack, who dodged just in time to avoid the bird's sharp talons. At the same moment Jack dodged, there was a crash of broken glass and a brilliant flash of light whizzed by Jack's ear, just missing him.

Instantly the three wizards had their wands in their hands.

"Get down!" Sirius yelled, pushing Sam off her feet and against the couch. Daniel dove towards the recliner, just in time to avoid another bolt of light, which hit the television and shattered it, sending pieces flying everywhere.

"Son of a _bitch_!"

Jack rolled, jerking a jagged piece of his television out of his forearm just as the three wizards in the room each grabbed one of the three members of SG-1.

"Hold tight!" Arthur Weasley shouted in Jack's ear, and Jack could hear the others receiving the same advice. The wizard grabbed O'Neill by the waist, holding him tightly against him, and said something that Jack couldn't hear over the sound of yet another bolt of light crashing into something else in his house and breaking it.

There was a loud crack, a bright light, and Jack felt like he was being pulled in every direction all at the same time. Just when he thought he'd fly apart, it stopped, and he found himself tumbling on the floor, grunting when he hit a tree stump.

Tree stump?

He looked around, trying to shake the stars from his view, and saw that they weren't at his house any longer. They weren't at any house. They were on the edge of a forest. And it was much darker than it had been at his house. Before his mind could register much more than that, he heard yelps of surprise as the others arrived.

He looked over just in time to see Carter tumble to the ground, and Daniel being held upright by Lupin, who had obviously deposited his passenger a bit more carefully than Sirius or Arthur Weasley had.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, looking around.

Before Jack could give her his guess, a deep voice spoke from the darkness.

"You are on the edge of what the humans call the Forbidden Forest…"

They all turned, and there was a rustling noise coming from the same direction. A noise that sounded very familiar to Jack, who found himself being pulled to his feet by a very powerful hand.

"Jack O'Neill… it is good to see you again."

"_Luminos_…"

There was suddenly plenty of light from the tip of his wand, and Jack and the others found themselves face to chest with a centaur. One that Jack recognized instantly.

"Rip…"


	3. 03

"Is everything ready?" Sirius asked, stepping forward.

The centaur nodded.

"My brothers and I are going to transport them."

"Transport who?" Daniel asked.

"Where?" Jack asked at the same time.

"Not even the Dark Lord would be foolish enough to try his hand against us," another voice added, as another centaur walked into the light of Sirius' wand.

"This is my brother Bip," Rip told them. "And he is quite correct. You and your friends will be quite safe with us."

"As safe as anyone can be right now," Arthur said, nodding.

"Safe from what?" Daniel asked.

"From whoever just tore my living room apart trying to get at us," Jack said, recovering from his own shock at being ripped from his home and into the presence of mythological creatures that he'd only known existed for a short time.

"Death Eaters, most likely," Lupin said.

"How did they get at us so quickly?" Sam asked, confused. "I thought you said that Dumbledore-"

"They have spies," Lupin said, darkly.

"They have _Snape_," Sirius added. "He didn't know where you lived, but I'm sure he had a good idea of a general location. Once Dumbledore was gone, then all they had to do was devise some kind of locator spell…"

"Easy enough for someone of Severus' talents…" Arthur said, shaking his head.

"We have to get hold of our people," Jack said. "They're going to be worried when-"

"We need to hide you," Sirius interrupted. "We'll try to get a message to-"

"I'm not hiding," Jack snapped. "I'm not going to turn into some kind of refugee just because some dark wizard is on the loose and trying to kill me."

"It's prudent, Jack," Rip said.

"No."

"_Yes_," came yet another deep voice as yet another centaur walked out of the trees. This one was just a little bigger than the other two – although he looked enough like them that Jack recognized him instantly. "Come with us, Jack O'Neill. There is much to discuss."

"I'm not-"

Before he could say anything else, a large hand had grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him up onto the horse part of Zip like he was a rag doll. Sam and Daniel both found themselves similarly treated even as Jack started to slide down off the horse's rump.

"Stop, Jack O'Neill," Zip told him, moving his horse end around to keep Jack from being able to dismount safely.

"I _told_ you I'm not-"

"Tell him about the prophecy," Lupin suggested.

"What prophecy?" Sam asked.

"An hour after Dumbledore's memorial service, Sybil Treylawney fell to the floor and started mumbling," Arthur told them.

"In front of all of us," Lupin added.

"Really?" Sam seemed far more interested in that bit of information than Jack or Daniel – but of course, she was the only one who had any idea what that might mean. "What did she say?"

"_'When the teacher is struck down by the friend… the final battle will truly begin'_," Lupin quoted – and it was obvious that he'd memorized it. "_'Guard well the brother and especially the boy, for they are the ones the Dark Lord will seek to destroy.'_"

"It's not much of a poem," Jack muttered.

"That's a prophecy?" Daniel asked, frowning.

"It must be," Lupin said. "We know Jack's the _brother_ and Harry's the _boy_ – so we have to do what it says and get you both to safety. Harry's untouchable at his aunt and uncle's and the Forbidden Forest is one of the few places the Dark Lord will not be able to penetrate at random."

"Though he may try," Zip said. "In which case he will run into far more trouble than he expects…"

Daniel noted that the centaur had his hand on the bow he had strapped across his human back when he said it.

"And while we're _hiding_?" Jack asked sarcastically. "What are you guys going to be doing?"

"Trying to figure out what Voldemort's up to…" Sirius said.

"How?" Sam asked.

"The same way he's finding out about us," Lupin said. "With spies."

OOOOOOOOOO

Teal'c arrived at O'Neill's house later than he expected – which annoyed him greatly. He hated being late for anything, especially when it was downtime with the rest of SG-1, because they always smirked about it. Which was _so_ annoying.

He parked the car next to Jack O'Neill's truck in the driveway (they never let him parallel park since he'd damaged both Daniel Jackson's car and Samantha Carter's car the last time he'd tried – although that had been more than a year before and he was much better than he had been) and frowned.

The light was on in O'Neill's living room, but the Jaffa didn't see anyone inside. Nor in the kitchen. It was then that he realized that he could see so clearly into both rooms of the house because the windows were shattered, as were the blinds that had covered them.

Stepping back into the darkness of the night, he surveyed the area closely, looking for any sign of danger – or for some sign of SG-1. There was no movement in the house, and the night around him was silent. Too silent.

Teal'c tensed, his instinct telling him that something was going to happen even before it did.

"_Crucio_!"

The Jaffa turned at the yell, but even as he pulled a concealed knife from inside his shirt to throw at the man in front of him, he felt an intense pain that seemed to come from everywhere within him at the same time. Grunting in pain, but refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of hearing him cry out, he dropped to his knees, his body tense with pain that he couldn't stop, and his muscles all frozen.

"_Stupify_!"

Another voice from the darkness – this one much closer – and there was a flash of red light and a yelp of pain. The pain Teal'c felt stopped as suddenly as it began, and another flash of red light shot past him from the darkness, striking someone – someone who cried out in pain and anger when it hit.

"Run!" the voice yelled, and suddenly hands were grabbing him by the arms, pulling him to his feet.


	4. 04

"Who do you have?" Sam asked, curiously.

"You'll find out soon enough, I think," Arthur said. "We shouldn't mention their names… you never know who might be around."

"Even _here_?" Daniel asked.

Sirius nodded.

"Go into the forest with the centaurs. They'll explain what they can and we'll try to join you as soon as we can…"

Jack scowled.

"I need to get hold of Teal'c. He's going to be coming to my house any minute and I don't want him to be caught in any trap."

Sirius nodded.

"I'll go back and watch for him myself, Jack. As soon as he shows up, I'll let him know what happened – and bring him to you if you wish."

"He'll probably insist on coming," Sam said.

Jack nodded his agreement.

"You really don't mind me on you?" Daniel asked Bip, changing the subject completely, but unable to help himself. It wasn't every day you found yourself up on the back of a _centaur_, after all. "I thought I read somewhere that centaurs don't like passengers…"

"It's in the books," Sam agreed.

"They don't care," Jack told them. He'd ridden one before and had asked the same question.

"Jack O'Neill is correct," Zip said, turning to Sam. "When the need is great enough, most of my kind are willing to act as transportation _and_ protection."

"And the need is _definitely_ great," Rip added. "We have much to discuss."

"But not here," Zip said, quickly, before his brother could say anything else.

"Right," Lupin agreed. "We'll meet you at the rendezvous place as soon as we get Jack's friend."

"Make sure you let him know we're not in danger," Jack said even as Zip started to turn and head into the forest. "Otherwise he might get worried."

"You _are_ in danger, though, Jack O'Neill," Rip said.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The hands released Teal'c as soon as the people attached to them realized he was steady on his feet and capable of running with them.

"_Stupify_!"

A bolt of red flashed close by – too close for comfort, really – and Teal'c heard a curse from one of those who was running with him in the dark.

"Bastards…"

The man obviously hadn't been struck, though, because he was still running, and when the Jaffa turned to see if he needed assistance, he saw the man aim a wand back over his shoulder at those who were pursuing them.

"_Stupify_!"

It didn't hit anyone, but it scattered them.

"Give me your hand!" one of the voices panted, and Teal'c felt someone grab his arm. He gripped the man's hand tightly, and an instant later felt himself being transported as the man apparated.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The house was quiet. Not because everyone was asleep or anything, but because no one wanted to say anything. They sat in the living room with the television off – for once – and stared at each other.

And stared.

Until finally, the tension became too much.

"Well?"

Harry flinched despite himself at the rough tone of voice his uncle used – even though he'd heard it a million times before.

"Well what?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

"You can't stay here."

Harry scowled.

"I don't _want_ to."

"He can't go out, Vernon," his aunt said, sticking up for Harry for what was probably the first time Harry could ever remember. "You Know Who is out there – looking for him."

Vernon scowled.

"He's putting us – and Dudley – in danger. Do you really want that?"

"He can't leave, yet," Petunia said, firmly – both to her husband and to her nephew.

Both of them scowled in reply.

OOOOOOOOOO

It was only a moment before the night was suddenly calm and Teal'c found himself in the middle of an open field. An instant later, he was nearly blinded when all around him lights came on – revealing that the field he was in was actually a football stadium. All around him were people – and all of them were carrying wands.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Denver," the man closest to him answered. He was a large man – almost as big as Teal'c, although he wasn't in anywhere near the shape that Teal'c was, and he was puffing a little after the running they'd done. "Are you okay?"

"I am fine. What happened?"

"The Death Eaters were after you."

Teal'c frowned.

"That is impossible. The Death Eaters are unable to go to my friend's house. It is protected."

"By _magic_," one of the other men said, nodding. "Unfortunately, the magic of the Secret Keeper is gone with the death of the one who holds the spell…"

"Dumbledore-"

"Is dead," the first man said, and all of them looked saddened by the statement.

Teal'c frowned.

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah."

"Otherwise we wouldn't have been able to go there, either," another reminded him.

Which told him that they definitely were wizards.

Teal'c nodded.

"Have my friends been taken captive?"

"We don't know."

"I must find out. They could be in danger. Can you take me to Sirius Black?"

They all frowned.

"The _murderer_?"

Now it was Teal'c's turn to frown.

"He did not send you?"

"Of course not."

"Then who are you associated with?"

It was obvious that they weren't Death Eaters, after all. But he didn't know of any other wizards.

"We're from Ashton's."

Teal'c stared at him, blankly.

"The Wizard school in Texas," another clarified.


	5. 05

It takes a lot to startle a Jaffa – especially one like Teal'c who had pretty much seen everything there was to see – but he blinked in surprise and it took him a few moments to formulate his next sentence.

"I have not heard of a Wizard school in Texas," he said.

The large man snorted in amusement.

"Have you heard of every wizard school there is, then?"

Good point.

Teal'c scowled.

"There has been no mention of any schools in the United States…"

"It wouldn't be much of a secret if everyone knew about it, would it?" another of the wizards pointed out.

"Besides," the first added. "We're not all that big and we haven't been around all that long."

"Only about four hundred years," agreed another. All of them were listening to the conversation – even though some were watching the area carefully, as if they weren't completely certain they'd escaped the Death Eaters.

"My name is Lance," the first said, holding out his hand. "Lance Truman. I'm from Georgia, originally – although I'm an instructor at Ashton's now, so I suppose you could say I hail from Texas as well…"

"I am Teal'c," the Jaffa said, shaking his hand and nodding an informal bow to the others. "Thank you for your assistance."

"I'm just sorry we didn't get there sooner," Truman said. "If your friend really was taken by the Death Eaters, he's in a lot of danger."

"If you are not acquainted with Sirius Black, how did you know that there would be trouble…?" Teal'c asked, looking the group over and unable to hide his suspicions. "It is not common knowledge that-"

"We know who Black _is_," a dark-haired man said, stepping forward. "He's a murderer who escaped from the Wizard prison and-"

"He is innocent of the crimes he is charged with," Teal'c interrupted. "I know him, personally and find him to be a honorable man."

"Yeah, well… how do we know you're not in cahoots with him?" the dark-haired man asked, not above being suspicious as well.

"Cahoots?" Teal'c asked, frowning.

"Working with him," Truman clarified, glancing at his companion. "You know he isn't, Jesse. If he was, there wouldn't have been the warning…"

The dark-haired man frowned, but it was Teal'c who spoke next.

"What warning did you receive?" he asked.

"A prophecy, really…" Truman said.

"We don't know for _sure_ it was," Jesse objected. "It might have just been some bad hot dogs or something…"

Truman snorted and shook his head, looking back to Teal'c.

"We were playing poker the other night in the staff room, when-"

"The staff room at the Wizard school Ashton?" Teal'c asked.

"Yeah. We mostly live there – those of us who aren't married live there year round – and some who _are_ married will come in for poker every other weekend."

"To get away from the wives, mostly," one of the others said with a broad smile.

Teal'c was finding that each of these men had different accents, which made him believe that they must have indeed come from different areas of the United states, for he had already recognized the accent of the Georgian and one that had to be from the New England area – as well as the Texan drawl that the man known as Jesse used.

"Continue," he requested, looking at Truman.

"We were playing cards and Jesse just drops to the floor in the middle of a hand and starts babbling –"

"It wasn't _babbling_," Jesse interrupted, annoyed. "At least it-"

"I know. Sorry. _You_ tell it then…"

"I don't remember it."

"Well _I_ do," Truman said, looking over at Teal'c. "He fell to the floor – scattering the chips and spilling my beer – and started talking about how the brother was going to need help and the boy would be killed by the dark one unless he was brought from his family home and taken through the path of the stars."

"Whatever that means," one of the others said, shaking his head.

"We thought he was done, but there was more. '_Watch below the mile high, for that's where the trouble will start_…'"

"Where it'll _begin_," another corrected.

Lance Truman nodded.

"Close enough. Anyways, we weren't sure what that meant – and Jesse didn't have any clue, of course – so we didn't really know what to do about the warning we'd been given…"

"It is the nature of oracles to be obscure," Teal'c said.

"Yeah. Too bad, huh? Luckily Jesse's wife suggested mile high might mean Denver, so we started-"

"Maybe _he's_ the dark one?" Jesse said, still looking at Teal'c suspiciously.

Truman shook his head, giving Teal'c an apologetic smile.

"We know the dark one is Voldemort – and we know the _boy_ is Harry Potter. We're not sure who the brother is, but it's obvious that your friend has something to do with him."

"Indeed," Teal'c said, not at all sure he trusted any of them enough to tell them O'Neill was the brother in question.

"Well, we need to figure out what to do next. Your friend is probably in danger, but even worse, if Jesse's babbling – prophecy – is right, then Harry Potter is in a lot of danger, too, and we need to get hold of the European wizards."

"I need to get in contact with them as well," Teal'c said. "Is there a way you can send them a message?"

"We were thinking something a little more direct," Lance Truman said.

"Explain."

"We're going to them."

"Want to come?" asked one of them.

"Yes."


	6. 06

_Author's note: This is a little short. Sorry!_

OOOOOOOOOO

It was too hard to carry on a conversation with the centaurs as they traveled – the centaurs weren't built for conversing with someone on their backs – but when they entered a well-hidden clearing, Daniel couldn't help but speak up.

"Oh my _goodness_…"

With good reason. The clearing was literally teeming with centaurs. There were centaurs of all colors and sizes, male and female. And all of them turned and looked when the three humans entered the clearing with their centaur companions.

Zip and his brothers stopped at the edge of the clearing, while the other centaurs gathered around them on the other three sides, all of them looking at SG-1 with varying degrees of curiosity and interest. One stepped out of the crowd and moved closer to the three. He was huge, with a black body and tail and the others watched, waiting to hear what he was going to say. Sam Carter had an idea who he was even before he spoke.

"Where is the other one?"

"He was not with them," Zip said. "The wizards say he wasn't at the house when the Dark Lord's people attacked."

"Then he is in danger."

Jack scowled.

"You're talking about Teal'c?"

The dark centaur turned to Jack.

"You are _O'Neill_."

"Yeah. And you _are_…?"

"Bane."

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

A knock on the door made everyone in the living room jump. Dudley even gave a startled yelp.

"I'll get it," Vernon said, jumping to his feet to hide his nervousness. He was just glad to have something to do.

He walked over to the door and looked out the peephole. And frowned.

"What the-"

"Let me in, please."

Harry's head came up at the voice he heard on the other side of the door and he stood up so quickly he practically knocked Dudley over – no small feat.

"Let him in!"

Vernon scowled, unwilling to take orders from his nephew in his own house.

"I-"

"Let him in!"

The door swung open, and a very familiar figure was standing on the porch. The old man smiled.

"Hello, Harry…"

Harry stepped back, startled. He'd hoped, but now that he actually saw him… it seemed too good to believe.

"Pro-_professor_…"

Dumbledore smiled.

"Can I come in?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"How do you intend to cover the distance between here and London?" Teal'c asked, curiously.

"That's the easy part," Lance Truman told him. "The hard part is trying to figure out where to go and who to look for…"

"Sirius Black," Teal'c said, instantly. "If anyone knows the whereabouts of my friends it will be him."

Jesse shook his head.

"We won't be able to find Black. He's too sneaky, from what I heard."

"There must be a spell you can use," Teal'c insisted. "Think of one."

One of the others frowned.

"Maybe a locator spell?"

Truman snorted in disbelief.

"That won't work, Brandon. Not for a person."

"It might."

Truman looked at Teal'c, helplessly.

"Can you think of _anyone_ else?"

"Several. All are instructors at Hogwarts…"

"What about Hogwarts?" Brandon asked. "Why not go there and see if anyone's about?"

"Because they've hidden it."

"From _Muggles_, Lance. Not from wizards."

"I have been there several times," Teal'c told them.

"Yeah, well that doesn't help – unless you have the exact coordinates?"

"I do not."

"There goes that idea, then."

Truman sighed, but then shrugged.

"We can go to London and find Diagon alley. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"Why not go by floo?" Teal'c asked. "Hogwarts is connected to the network, is it not?"

Truman looked over at the others, who all shrugged.

"No clue. None of us have been there."

"Yet you have heard of it."

"Of course! We're not _hillbillies_, you know."

"No matter what _they_ think of us," Jesse added. "But we don't have any connections to the floo network. We've never needed to petition for one."

"My friend is connected to the network," Teal'c told them.

"What?"

"He has had several visitors through his fireplace in the past. There is no reason to believe that his house has been disconnected."

They all looked at each other, uncertainly.

"What do you think, Lance?" asked the one named Brandon.

Truman shrugged.

"The worst that can happen is that we don't make it anywhere and waste a little floo powder. If that happens we can always go to plan B."

"Is your friend a wizard?" Jesse asked.

"No."

"Then why-"

"Because he is the brother of Lord Voldemort."

And that was all they needed to hear.


	7. 07

"I didn't know he even _had_ a brother…" Lance said, shocked.

"It is not common knowledge. And I would prefer it stays that way."

Which was a not so subtle hint.

"Then it's probably not too much of a stretch to assume your friend is the brother in the prophecy," Jesse replied.

"Indeed."

"Which means we definitely need to find out where he is – and if _Voldemort_ has him."

"And we need to help get him back if he is."

"And what of Harry Potter?"

Lance shrugged.

"If he's at his family home, he should be okay."

"Let's go check out your friend's house and see if we can use floo powder," the one named Brandon said. "Otherwise we might have to just take a plane."

Teal'c wasn't sure if he was joking or not. Of course, that was how it usually was when he was dealing with humans.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"_Bane_?" Sam echoed, speaking up and causing the dark colored centaur to turn toward her.

"You know of me?"

"Just what I've read…" Sam replied uncertainly.

The centaur smiled, and now he was far more handsome than when he scowled.

"Ah. _The books_."

Sam smiled as well, because he had a truly infectious grin. A lot like Jack, really.

"Yeah."

"Not _all_ is accurate in those books, Major Samantha Carter. Especially what is written about us."

"The humans don't really know all that much about us," Zip agreed. "So they add in whatever they wish – and it's usually negative."

"The books make me out to be a human hater," Bane said. "However, if the cause is right, I am more than willing to help where I can."

"And you don't mind giving people rides?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Bane's smile broadened.

"Would you like a ride?"

Jack snorted, amused for the first time, and slid off Zip's broad back.

"You brought us here to talk," he reminded the centaurs. "We'd better talk."

"We brought you here to protect you, as well, O'Neill," Zip told him as he turned his hindquarters around so he could see the others as well and Daniel and Sam both slid down as well. Sitting on a centaur is not very comfortable, after all.

"And to meet with me," A voice said, drawing everyone's attention.

The group of centaurs that had been gathering around moved a little, allowing a small form to emerge from within them. A small form with brilliant blue eyes and huge bat-like ears walked toward them. And they all recognized him immediately.

"Sebastian…"

"It is good to see you again, O'Neill. Although I'm afraid I have only bad news for you."

OOOOOOOOO

Dumbledore watched Harry intently, his blue eyes twinkling merrily at the eagerness in the boy's expression.

"I thought he was dead?" Vernon said, turning to his nephew.

"He must have survived," Harry said, grinning foolishly. After all, they'd told him that Sirius was dead, and he hadn't been, either. Right?

"Who-"

"May I come in?" Dumbledore asked again.

"Ye-"

_"No!"_

A voice from behind them interrupted Harry, and a big hand pulled him away from the door so forcefully that Harry actually stumbled and fell backwards against his cousin.

"Dudley!" Petunia was shocked by her son's behavior, but no more than Vernon and Harry were.

"What are you _doing_?" Harry yelled, pushing himself away from Dudley and heading back to the door.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dudley asked, grabbing him again and jerking him back.

"Stop!" Harry tried to twist free, but Dudley was too strong for him – and Vernon and Petunia were too shocked to do more than just watch. Which was what Dumbledore was doing, as well. "Let me _go_!"

"Don't be stupid, Harry!" Dudley snapped. "That's _not_ your precious Dumbledore."

"What? Shut up, Dudley! _You_ don't know-"

"Do you even _read_ those stupid books they write about you?" Dudley hissed, jerking Harry back against him once more, flinging him to the floor like a rag doll and putting himself between his cousin and the door.

Harry stared up at him stupidly, his glasses skewed and his breath coming in short pants.

"What are you _talking_ about?"

"Why is he _asking_ to come in, you prat? He's been here before and came in without permission every time! That's _not_ Dumbledore. It's someone else – someone who _looks_ like Dumbledore and is trying to trick you into letting him in so he can get past the protections on the house."

"Don't listen to him, Harry," Dumbledore said quickly. "_Let me in_."

"You say yes and you're dumber than I thought," Dudley snapped. "Think about it. You said yourself you saw Dumbledore die. You even went to the funeral – or whatever it is wizards have."

"I-"

"Harry! Let me in!"

"_No_!"

Harry _had_ seen Dumbledore die. He'd heard the sorrow in Fawkes' cry and had known that it was real this time. As much as he wanted to believe that it wasn't true, he knew it was – and knew that Dudley was right. And couldn't believe that his own cousin – who he'd hated more than anyone as he was growing up – had been smart enough to figure out what he hadn't seen at all. Obviously there was more to Dudley than Harry ever could have credited.

"Harry…"

Dumbledore's voice was stern, now, but Vernon was over his own shock and wasn't about to let anyone threaten Harry in his house – that was his job, after all.

"You get the hell off my property," he said, and slammed the door shut on the old wizard.


	8. 08

"Bad news?" Jack asked. "What do you mean?"

The unusual house elf that lived in the ancient shack that had once been the home of the most famous seer in the wizarding world gave him a sad look.

"You have heard of Dumbledore's fate?"

"Of course."

"A prophecy appeared in the house at what I can only assume was the instant of his death."

Sam frowned.

"What kind of prophecy?"

In answer the little elf held out a small glass globe. One that looked a lot like the ones Jack had seen when he'd been in the house in the Forbidden Forest. Surprisingly, he didn't hand it over to any of them. Instead, he studied it intently for a moment, and an instant later all of those who were watching saw a light seem to grow within it and brighten until the small sphere was glowing gently. A moment later an ethereal figure emerged to stand lightly on the globe. She turned and seemed to be looking directly at the house elf, and then spoke in a voice that all of them could hear quite well – for all that it was soft and gentle.

_"Lo! In the darkest day of the phoenix the brother must be brought. Only he can find the boy – for the Dark One will steal him and take him to the path of the stars – and the brother's blood will show the way. Go then, Sebastian, and find the wise ones, for they will aid the brother in his search."_

Jack frowned.

"She called you by name…"

Sebastian gave him a mile.

"The great lady was the greatest seeress ever born, Jack O'Neill. Unlike any other, she knew – _at times_ – who her prophecies were destined for."

"You?" Sam asked, surprised.

Sebastian's smile grew.

"It is a great honor! I am the only one of my kind ever chosen."

Daniel frowned.

"Who are the _wise ones_?"

"_We_ are, of course," Bane said, answering before Sebastian could.

The house elf nodded.

"Long have the centaurs been referred to as the wisest beings in the Forest – and perhaps beyond."

"_Definitely_ beyond," Zip agreed.

"What does it mean?" Sam asked.

Sebastian's smile faded.

"That is the bad news, I'm afraid. We're not sure."

"Well obviously Jack's the _brother_," Daniel said.

Rip snorted – a sound that actually sounded like a horse.

"We figured _that_ out."

"We can also figure out that the darkest day of the phoenix is _now_," another voice said, and they all turned to see Sirius walking into the clearing – obviously newly arrived. Behind him were Hagrid, Arthur Weasley and Minerva McGonagall. "Even if she didn't mean the Order, she _could_ have meant Fawkes."

"The problem is," Bane said as the other walked over. "We don't know where the path of the stars is – and we're not certain what the part about the brother's blood showing the way…"

"So how do we find out?" Jack asked.

"Or _maybe_ we already know?" Sam interjected softly.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"I'll go first," Lance said, putting his hand on Teal'c's shoulder to stop him.

The seven of them were on the edges of the O'Neill house, and watching it carefully, looking for traps – or any sign of a trap. The place looked deserted.

Teal'c hesitated, unwilling to allow someone else to put themselves in danger for him, but nodded a moment later. He wasn't a wizard, and they were. If anyone was waiting for them (or someone else) it would be wizards, and the Ashton wizards all carried wands. Teal'c didn't even have his zat. They were better prepared for battle than he was – although he still chafed as he watched Lance Truman sneak out of the bushes on the side of the property and carefully walk across the open land towards the house. Torn between concern that he'd be attacked, and worry that O'Neill's house wouldn't provide the transportation they needed, he was tense enough that a good fight would be just the thing to relieve some of his edginess.

Truman made it without so much as a dog barking at him, and stopped at the broken living room window and peeked into the house. Then he turned and waved for the others.

"I'll go next," Jesse said, standing up, but this time Teal'c was the one to put his hand on the other's shoulder.

"_I_ will go next."

He needed to move.

Since he was larger than Jesse and far more powerfully built, the wizard just nodded and Teal'c stood up and walked across the open space to Truman.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone here, Teal'c," Lance whispered, starting to pick the broken shards of glass out of the living room pane. "We'll go in this way and avoid the rest of the house."

Teal'c nodded his agreement.

"It is a sound plan, Lance Truman. And good strategy."

The wizard grinned, glancing over in time to see Jesse start moving across the lawn.

"I've seen my share of cop shows on TV."

Before Teal'c could reply, Jesse was there.

"Is it clear?" he asked, peeking into the living room as well.

"Looks like it. We'll be careful, but I think we can go in…"

"I will go first," Teal'c said.

The other two nodded as the rest of the American wizards joined them, and Teal'c easily levered himself up onto the window pane and slid through the broken window to land quietly on the other side. He cut himself in a few places on broken glass that littered the living room carpet, but wasn't worried about that. He had a symbiote, after all. A gentle light caught him as he stood, but before he could worry that it was an attack, he saw that the wizard named Brandon had brought out his wand and illuminated the tip.

Under that gentle light, the rest of the wizards followed Teal'c's example and joined him in the living room, while Teal'c walked over to the fireplace, surveying the damage done by the Death Eaters when they'd attacked O'Neill and the others. He scowled to hide his concern.

If Voldemort had O'Neill and the others, he'd better hope he was treating them well, because if he hurt them, Teal'c was going to make sure he paid a very dear price for it.

"We ready?" Lance asked, pulling Teal'c's attention back to the wizards.

"Yes."

The wizard pulled out a bag that he'd conjured on the way to the house and looked at Teal'c.

"They know you best…" he said. "You probably should go first. Otherwise, we might get worse from friendly fire than we would from the Dark Lord."

"Indeed."

Teal'c took a small handful of the powder in the bag and threw it into the fireplace. Green flames flared up where a moment before there hadn't been anything. The Jaffa looked at the others and turned, stepping into the flames.

"_Hogwarts_!"


	9. 09

"If that wasn't Dumbledore, then _who_ was it?" Vernon asked, confused.

Still shocked at the sudden turn of events – and the rise of a great hope that was crushed ruthlessly – Harry slumped down into one of the chairs in the living room, still staring at the door.

"A Death Eater, probably," he said, shrugging.

"Or Voldemort himself," Dudley added, sitting in a chair, too, and completely unaware of the looks his parents were sending his way.

Harry looked over at him, as well.

"How do you know so much about-"

"I _read_ the stupid books," Dudley said, interrupting with a fierce scowl. "_Everyone's_ reading them, and they're always talking about them and looking at me like I'm retarded when I say anything bad about them. _Especially_ since they think I'm just sour because I have the sorry misfortune of having the same name as the fat, spoiled cousin to the famous Harry Potter…"

"There are _books_?" Vernon asked, torn between amazement and fury.

Dudley nodded.

"A whole _series_. All about how _great_ he is and all the trials and tribulations he's had to go through here with us – and how he's managed to outsmart Voldemort every time the two of them come face to face."

"_That's_ not true," Harry objected. "I've had all _sorts_ of help with-"

"According to the books you're the best thing since sliced bread to the wizard world," Dudley said, sneering. "No wonder you can't wait to leave here every school year and get back to your fawning-"

"I can't wait to leave because you guys treat me like _crap_!" Harry snapped. "Treating me like a slave, making me do all the work and all-"

Vernon scowled.

"You'll earn your keep or you'll be out on your ear."

"I've earned my keep and _then some_," Harry said, heatedly. "You-"

"_Harry!"_

The voice from outside the door was punctuated by a loud knocking, making everyone in the room jump. Vernon's glare turned from Harry to the door and then back to Harry.

"Who is _that_?"

Harry hesitated.

"It… it _sounded_ like Jack O'Neill."

Dursley frowned.

"The _American_?"

The voice definitely _sounded_ American, and really, Vernon had heard that voice before, he knew. He never forgot the voice of someone who threatened him, after all. If it really _was_ O'Neill.

"It's not him," Dudley said, shaking his head. "It's just another trick."

"_Harry! Are you in there? It's me, Jack!"_

There was more pounding.

"They wouldn't try it again so quickly," Harry said, standing up and heading to the door.

"Are you _stupid_?" Dudley asked, again, and stood up to stop him.

"Relax," Harry said, reaching past his uncle and taking hold of the doorknob. "He can't come in if it's not Jack. You saw that."

Jack was far more believable than Dumbledore. Jack was one of the people he trusted most – aside from Sirius, who Voldemort or his followers would immediately think to pretend to be.

"He can't come in if he is, either," Dudley pointed out impatiently. "How are you going to know?"

"They'd send him with some kind of sign…" Harry said, flinging open the door.

Sure enough, there was Jack, standing right outside the door. And hovering over his shoulder was the last thing Harry expected to see, but was something that made him smile.

_"Fawkes!"_

Vernon frowned, but it was Petunia who spoke up.

"What?"

"It's Dumbledore's _phoenix_!" Harry said, grinning hugely at Jack, who returned the smile easily. "What better sign could they have sent with him?"

The phoenix squawked, sending showers of false flames to the floor of the porch with every motion it made.

"No," Dudley said, shaking his head and reaching for Harry again. "That's stupid. He's probably the first person they thought of – and that bird's probably-"

"Harry, let's get going," Jack told him, gracing Dudley with a look that Harry knew well. He'd seen it before – the last time, it'd been directed at him. "The others are waiting in the Forbidden Forest."

"Wait a minute," Vernon said, stepping between Harry and the door. "How do we know you're _really_ who you look like?"

Jack scowled.

"What?"

"The last guy wasn't."

Jack looked over at Harry.

"What's he talking about?"

"The-"

"Don't tell him, you idiot," Dudley ordered. "It's just a trick. Close the door."

Harry frowned at the command – and so did Jack, but it was Vernon who spoke up.

"You leave. Now. If you don't, I'm going to call the police."

"Wait!" Harry said, quickly. 'If you're _really_ Jack O'Neill, where do you live?"

"What?"

"If you're really Jack O'Neill, tell me where you _live_." He grinned over at the Dursleys, feeling triumphant for the first time in the middle of a day that had been very trying. "Jack's house has a Secret Keeper," he said. "Sirius told me about it. So only Jack could tell me the real location."

"I live in Colorado Springs," Jack told him, quickly, spouting off the address without hesitation. "Now can we go before Voldemort shows up and tries to fry us?"

Harry nodded, his smile now one of relief.

"Let's go."

He wanted to know what the others were doing, and wanted to know more about what Jack was doing with Fawkes.

Petunia started to say something, but Harry wasn't listening. Jack had passed the test that no one else could have. Well, no one but whoever the _Secret Keeper_ was – and that was a member of the Order as well, although Sirius hadn't been willing to tell Harry who it was.

"You're crazy," Dudley said, shaking his head. "I don't trust him."

Harry stepped out the door.

"Well _I_ do."

Jack reached out and took his arm, roughly.

"You _shouldn't_ have," he said, sneering. "My master will reward me well for this!"

There was an uttered word, and a crack of noise, and Harry and Jack were both gone. The phoenix lingered an instant longer, but then it simply vanished.


	10. 10

Daniel frowned at Sam.

"You're talking about the Stargate…"

The way he said it made it a question, not a statement, and Carter shrugged.

"Why not? It makes sense."

"It _doesn't_ make sense, Carter," Jack told her, scowling. "How would she know about it? Especially however long ago she made the prophecy? _We've_ only known about it for ten years or so."

"But it was still _around_," Sam pointed out.

Surprisingly, it was Zip who shook his head.

"The _path of the stars_ does not refer to your Stargate, Samantha Carter," he told her. "At least _we_ do not believe it does."

Jack turned, as surprised as any of them.

"You know about the Stargate?"

Bane shrugged nonchalantly.

"We don't know much about it. It isn't something that interests us, after all. The stars in the skies above our own planet are all that our kind need."

"How did-"

"We have our own ways of knowing things, Major Carter," Zip told her, smiling.

"But the Secret Keeper-" Daniel started.

"Has nothing to do with my people," Zip told him. "We are immune to magic, after all. _Even_ the magic of the Secret Keeper."

That was news to all of them – wizards included from the shocked looks on all of their faces. Except for Hagrid, who knew everything about pretty much any being or critter that lived in the Forest.

OOOOOOOOOOO

With an agile movement to keep himself from falling, Teal'c stepped out of the fireplace – a different fireplace than the one in Jack O'Neill's office. He looked around and recognized the room he was now standing in as Dumbledore's office. It looked almost exactly as it had the last time he'd been there – only there was another portrait on the wall. This one of Dumbledore himself. Which told Teal'c – who had actually read all the Harry Potter books – that Dumbledore was truly dead. It was the only way he'd have a portrait in the Headmaster's office.

The Dumbledore in the portrait was asleep, but Teal'c's sudden arrival startled all the other occupants, and there was a sudden symphony of alarmed voices.

"Be calm," he announced, moving away from the fireplace to make room for the others. "I am looking for one of the staff…"

"They're gone!" an old witch told him, brandishing her broomstick at him as if to threaten him – or maybe to defend herself from him. "You don't belong here…"

"I am Teal'c," he said as a yelp and a poof of soot announced the arrival of someone else. The Jaffa looked down and saw Jesse had been the first to follow him.

The wizard stood up, looking around with interest.

"Where are we?" he asked, curiously.

"In the office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"_Dumbledore's_ office!" Jesse said, awed.

"No longer."

"He's right," a voice said – a voice that didn't come from one of the pictures on the walls. Teal'c and the American wizard turned and saw that the door had opened, and Remus Lupin was standing in the doorway.

"Lupin…"

The wizard gave Teal'c a tired smile.

"Teal'c. It's good to-"

He was interrupted by the arrival of yet another visitor from the fireplace. Lance Truman tumbled out of the fireplace and landed in a heap with a muffled curse.

"I _knew_ there was a reason I never tried that shit," he muttered, spitting out ashes and pulling himself to his feet.

Remus frowned at the odd accent and looked from the two men to Teal'c.

"Who are your companions, Teal'c? What are-"

"Lance Truman," Lance said, holding out his hand with a slight smile. "Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Ashton's."

Now Lupin's frown was confused. He'd never heard of the place – and was pretty sure he knew of all the wizard schools.

"Where?"

"It is a wizarding in Texas," Teal'c explained.

"What? _Where_?"

"Just outside of Houston to be exact," Jesse elaborated, extending his hand as well. "Jesse Walker, Headmaster of Ashton's school of witchcraft and wizardry."

"In the United States?"

"Exactly."

"I've never-"

The fireplace belched once more and Brandon tumbled out in an undignified heap, and lurched to his feet immediately.

"Wow! That's insane!"

Lupin turned to Teal'c, waiting, but Brandon was looking around the room not paying attention to any of them.

"This is _Dumbledore's_ office, isn't it?" he asked. "It looks just like it was described in the-"

"Brandon…"

Jesse waved the younger man over impatiently.

"This is Brandon Steele," he said, introducing him to Lupin. "He's the riding instructor."

"_Riding instructor_?" Lupin asked, confused.

Brandon nodded as he took Lupin's hand in a friendly grip.

"Yup. I teach our kids to ride everything from bicycles, broomsticks, to their first cars, horses, steers and the occasional-"

"Wait a minute," a voice interrupted. This one did come from the wall – and it was impatient. "What are you _doing_ here?"

The occupants of the room looked over and saw an angry looking wizard watching them from his portrait.

"We're here to help," Jesse said. "Voldemort's _got_ to be stopped – before he becomes more than just a potential menace to _my_ students as well…"

OOOOOOOOO

They all stared at the empty doorway for several long moments, shocked into silence by the sudden disappearance.

"Did you see that?" Dudley finally asked, nearly shouting. "I told him! I told him not to trust him, but he wouldn't lis-"

"Shut up, Dudley," Petunia snapped.

Shocked – since his mother had never, ever, been short with him – Dudley gaped at her.

"Come on," she said, heading for the stairway.

Vernon scowled, looking at Dudley and then over towards her retreating back.

"Where are you going?"

"To get Harry's owl."

"What?" Her husband looked up at her as if she'd suddenly grown another head. "Why?"

"We need to send a message to Hogwart's." she answered, reaching the top of the staircase. "Someone needs to know what happened."


	11. 11

Hedwig was in her cage in Harry's room, which was exactly where Vernon thought she should stay.

"Petunia… she's going to rip your hand apart if you try to touch her."

The owl mantled threateningly as the two of them opened the door to Harry's room, but Petunia Dursley walked over without hesitation.

"I need you to take a message to someone who can help," she said directly to the owl – which made her husband stare at her in amazement. "Harry's been kidnapped."

She took a small piece of paper from the desk beside the bird's cage (undoubtedly put there for just the purpose she was going to use it for) and scribbled a quick note in her small neat handwriting.

"Open the cage, Vernon."

"But Petunia…"

"_Open it_, Vernon."

Grumbling – but only under his breath where she wouldn't be able to understand what he was saying – Vernon opened the cage warily and stepped back. Hedwig glared at him for a moment, and then stepped delicately out of the cage and turned her attention to Harry's aunt.

Surprising her husband, Petunia tied the note with ease to the owl's leg and went over and opened the window. With a soft hoot, Hedwig hopped over to the window and vanished in a flurry of wings.

Vernon went over and closed the window, and then turned to his wife.

"What now?"

She shrugged.

"We wait, I suppose."

"You really think that owl understood what you told it?"

"I hope so," she said, turning for the door. "Harry's all I have left of my sister."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"I don't understand," Lupin said. "Why are you here?"

"Because someone has abducted O'Neill and the others," Teal'c said. "These wizards helped me escape from them when they tried to abduct me as well."

"But how did they – _you_ – even know what was going on?" Lupin asked, addressing all the wizards and not just Teal'c.

"They're probably spies for _He-Who-Must-No- Be-Named_," said one of the witches in a portrait on the wall.

"Oh, posh," said a wizard in the portrait next to hers. "Voldemort doesn't know anything more about the wizards in America than your great aunt Madeline."

"I'll have you know, my great aunt-"

"Never set foot outside of-"

Jesse grinned over at Lupin.

"The pictures in my office argue all the time, too."

"Why do you think he spends so much time in the staff room?" Lance asked.

"Truth is," Lupin said, "None of us know all that much about your school – _or_ the people in it."

"We're no friend of Voldemort's," Brandon said, sharply.

"How do you even know about him?" the witch in the portrait challenged. "We don't send out weekly bulletins, after all."

"Oh, I don't know…" Lance said sarcastically. "Maybe because your dirty laundry has been splattered all over the world page by page?"

"They are referring to the Harry Potter books," Teal'c said, helpfully.

Lupin nodded, drolly, and the portraits on the walls all stopped talking.

"Everyone knows about him," Jesse said, giving Lance a disapproving scowl. "But unlike the people that simply read those books for entertainment, _we_ know that's he's real. And like I said, we need to get him stopped before it gets out of hand. I won't have my students going through the panic that yours are."

Again Lupin nodded.

"I can understand your concerns, sir, and we'd be foolish to turn down any help you can offer…"

It was plain, though, that Lupin didn't think they had all that much to add.

Jesse wasn't concerned, however. He knew more than Lupin just what he and his friends could do – and what they could contribute.

"Then let me tell you of a prophecy I was given…"

OOOOOOOOOOO

"You're immune to magic?" Daniel asked, surprised.

Bane nodded.

"It isn't common knowledge, but yes."

"It doesn't mention that in the books…"

Zip snorted – as did several of the other centaurs who were listening.

"It's not common knowledge," he said, quoting Bane. "And certainly not one we wish to have broadcast throughout the wizard world. Our immunity gives us an advantage – one we might find necessary in the near future."

Jack nodded. He could understand anyone wanting to make use of an advantage – especially an advantage like being immune to magic when they were facing an enemy who was supposedly the most powerful wizard in the world.

"Makes sense."

"Indeed."

The phrase – which was one of Teal'c's most often used ones – reminded Jack of another pressing matter.

"We need to get hold of Teal'c," he said, turning to Sirius. "By now he has to know that something happened – and he's probably trying to find us."

Sirius nodded.

"We're looking for him, Jack."

Sam frowned.

"Looking for him?"

"We know the Death Eaters attacked him at your house… we just can't figure out how he got away… or where he went."

"We need to-"

"You're sure he got away?" Daniel interrupted.

Minerva nodded.

"I arrived just in time to see the Death Eaters leave, and they were furious. Somehow he got away, but we haven't figured out how, yet."

"Don't worry, Jack," Sirius said. "We'll find him way before Voldemort does."


	12. 12

Between one instant and another, Harry Potter felt his body lurch, disintegrate and reform. He also felt elation turn into dismay and chagrin as he realized that there was no way the person who had been at the door was Jack O'Neill. Jack wasn't magical and couldn't apparate – and he certainly couldn't take someone along with him – and there hadn't been a portkey. Harry knew that, because with a portkey he would have had to take hold of it, and that hadn't happened. He'd just vanished.

From his aunt and uncle's house to a small, dimly lit room that had no windows and no furniture.

He turned just in time to see the features of the person beside him change instantly from the friendly countenance of Jack O'Neill into the far more sinister one of Voldemort's Death Eaters. He was sneering, his hand firmly grasping Harry by the back of his shirt.

"The famous Harry Potter…"

Harry frowned, fighting his panic and shock and trying to figure out why the man looked familiar.

"Not so clever _now_, are you boy? The Dark Lord will be pleased – and hopefully we'll be allowed to simply kill you and be done with you this time. Your little escapes have driven our Master to bouts of violent anger…"

"My heart bleeds," Harry said, recognizing the man now as one of the Death Eaters who'd been in the fight at the Ministry of Magic.

The man's face clouded with fury and he was shaken like a rag dog.

"You'll have more than that bleeding, boy, I assure you. When the Dark Lord-"

"_Voldemort_," Harry said, angry with himself for allowing someone so stupid and vile to trick him – and trick him so _easily_! "His name's Voldemort. He's no one's lord, and-"

_"Shut up, boy!"_

Spit sprayed against Harry's face and glasses as the man shook him again.

"Now, now, Dolohov," a cold voice said suddenly. A voice that made Harry's hair stand up on the back of his neck. "We wouldn't want to damage our guest before our Master has a chance to, would we?"

Lucius Malfoy walked up to the two of them, his pale eyes hard and merciless as he looked at Harry.

"Welcome, Harry. I must say; you certainly surprised me. I wouldn't have expected you to fall for such an obvious trap."

Feeling sick and stupid, Harry didn't answer. But Malfoy wasn't really expecting an answer. He even answered the one question Harry had – almost as if he could read Harry's mind.

"Yes. There _was_ a Secret Keeper for Jack O'Neill's house. But that Secret Keeper is dead. _Definitely_ dead, isn't he?"

And by the glint in the pale eyes, Harry knew that Dumbledore had been the Secret Keeper. No other death could have pleased Malfoy so much. Except maybe his own. He felt like throwing up.

Malfoy simply smiled, pleased to see by Harry's expression that his words had struck a nerve.

"Jack O'Neill will be next, you know… We're already looking for him."

"I hope you have a couple of extra wands laying around," Harry said. "Everyone knows what he did to your last one."

_That_ earned him a blow. Malfoy must have replaced his wand – or at least the holder it had been in – because a metal cane slammed him in the stomach, bending him over as it knocked the wind out of him and sent a searing pain through his entire body, emanating from his belly. Dolohov's grip was all that kept him from falling, and his own hatred of Malfoy was all that kept him from crying out.

"Don't try your humor on my Master, boy. He's not as patient and kind hearted as I am." Malfoy turned to Dolohov. "You have business to attend to. He'll be fine in here until Voldemort wants him."

The other Death Eater nodded and let go of Harry, who fell to the floor. With a snort of amusement, Dolohov left the room, and Malfoy smiled down at his prisoner.

"Don't worry, boy. You'll be seeing your precious Headmaster soon enough."

With that, he too turned and left the room, closing the door solidly behind him.

Harry sat where he was, his hand clutching his side and staring at the heavy door, unable to think around the pain in his stomach and the ache in his heart at the callous mentions of Dumbledore.

OOOOOOOOO

Voldemort looked up as Lucius Malfoy entered the room.

"You have him?"

"Yes, Master. He's in the holding room."

"Good. Leave him there for now."

"Why don't you just _kill_ him, my lord?" Malfoy asked, unable to stop himself – although he knew how dangerous it was to seem to doubt the Dark Lord. "Without _him_, you're free to-"

"Harry Potter is only part of the problem, Lucius," Voldemort interrupted. "A _large_ part, yes, but only a part."

"Jack O'Neill?"

Voldemort nodded.

"I want O'Neill found, Lucius. _Now_."

"We're working on it, my lord."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"Work harder, Lucius."

"Yes, my lord."

With a deep bow, Lucius Malfoy escaped the room, and called for several of the others to join him.

Voldemort waited until the door closed behind him, and then turned his attention to the small sphere in his hand and the little holographic image of the man who was standing above it.

"Soon…" he whispered. "Very soon…"

OOOOOOOOOOO

Lupin was fascinated – and didn't bother to hide it.

"So you think Jack O'Neill is the brother?" he asked.

Jesse shrugged.

"We didn't know who the brother was," he said. "But we were pretty sure Harry Potter is the boy. We didn't even know Voldemort had a brother until Teal'c told us about him."

"We must find O'Neill," Teal'c said. "He is in danger."

Lupin shook his head.

"He's fine. He's here – in the Forest, actually – and I really think we need to go see him."


	13. 13

"O'Neill is here?" Teal'c asked, frowning.

"In the Forest," Lupin clarified.

"You're referring to the _Forbidden Forest_?" Lance asked, interested.

"Yes."

"Excellent."

It was obvious that the American wizards were interested in the forest, just by the way they were all looking at him, but Lupin hesitated.

"It's dangerous…"

Steele snorted.

"And?"

They _were_ wizards, after all – and they knew what was in the forest, since all three of them had read the books. Lupin felt just a little foolish for pointing it out, but he was still having trouble thinking of them as _wizards_ and not Muggles. They certainly didn't dress like any wizards he knew, after all – and didn't act like wizards.

They acted like… well, like _Muggles_, really.

Lupin shrugged.

"Just keep your eyes open, okay? It's not a safe place to be…"

"We'll be fine," Jesse assured him. "We're-"

"Don't take them into the Forest!" The witch in the portrait hissed, still looking distrustfully at the Americans. "The Americans aren't _real_ wizards, they're just a sect. You can't-"

"We're just as magical as you are," Jesse snapped, angrily. "Just because none of you wanted to admit it and actually embrace us as equals or allies doesn't negate the fact that we're-"

"_Enough!"_

All of them were shocked into silence by a voice that Teal'c and the Hogwarts wizards all knew very well – and one that carried more than enough authority to stop the Americans in mid sentence even though they hadn't heard the voice before. Everyone turned to the portrait on the wall behind the desk, and Lupin stifled a sob when he saw Dumbledore's eyes open and looking at him. The witch in the portrait looked like she was going to say something, but she held it back, and Dumbledore's gaze turned to the Americans.

"You are welcomed here."

Jesse wasn't a fool. He'd read the Harry Potter books and knew the description of Dumbledore as well as he did anything. He gave the former Headmaster a formal bow.

"Thank you, sir…"

The old wizard nodded, and turned to Lupin.

"The path of the stars is closer than you think, Remus," he said, gently, and then he closed his eyes.

Lupin frowned, looking at the others.

"What did he mean by that?"

Brandon Steele frowned, and started to say something, but the witch in the portrait – the one who had been so against the Americans – spoke up first.

"Get to the Forest, boy," she said, crossly. "_All_ of you. You don't have time to lollygag."

Teal'c looked up at Dumbledore's portrait, but the wizard was apparently sound asleep once more, because he didn't look at them again. The Jaffa turned to the wizards who were with him.

"We must find O'Neill."

He knew instinctively that Dumbledore wasn't going to speak again – at least not just then – and he had other things on his mind. Jaffa were fairly single-minded, after all.

Lupin nodded, gesturing to the others.

"Come on, I'll take you to him."

OOOOOOOOOO

"Are you sure Harry's safe at his aunt and uncle's?" Jack asked. "It didn't seem all that secure to me when I was there last…"

"That's because you left the house," Carter said.

Sebastian shook his head.

"No. Only those who carry the same blood as Harry Potter are _truly_ safe in the house. Others are not. Although the Dark One's people chose wisely to lure you out of the house when they abducted you."

"So Harry's _safe_?" Jack asked again.

Sirius nodded.

"As long as he stays put."

Jack frowned.

"And you have someone watching him?"

"We-"

A squawk from above interrupted, and a shower of sparks elicited surprise from several of the centaurs watching. At the forefront of that shower Fawkes came swooping in and landed on a branch just above Jack's head.

"That's a phoenix…" one of the young centaurs said.

Bane looked over at Jack.

"Fawkes looks to you now?"

O'Neill shrugged.

"It appears so…"

"It is a great honor, Jack O'Neill. A phoenix is a wondrous ally in trying times such as these."

Jack thought about mentioning how little help Fawkes had been to Dumbledore – considering the man was dead – but he didn't. For one thing, he had actually _liked_ Dumbledore, and for another and far more important a thing; the death was still very fresh in the minds and hearts of the others around him (especially the wizards) and he didn't want to rub salt into so raw and open a wound.

"At least I won't need to worry about lighting my fireplace anymore," he said, choosing as he usually did, humor as a means to deflect any serious response.

It worked, for many of them anyways. Carter smiled, looking up at the sparks that Fawkes was still raining down on the ground around Jack (although none of them landed on him and none set the loam of the forest floor to smoldering).

"I think we should-"

What she thought was going to have to wait, though, because at that moment there was yet another commotion on the edge of the little clearing. The centaurs all reached for weapons, although they didn't draw them, and Jack once more wished he had a gun on him – _any_ gun, really.

Above him Fawkes gave a squawk of welcome, fanning his great wings once more and sending another, larger, shower of sparks to the ground below him.

A group of people Jack had never seen before (big shock there, really) walked out of the forest and into the clearing, and O'Neill realized that he did know Lupin, who was leading them – and was relieved to see yet another person he knew walking at the tail guard. He moved towards them, as the centaurs lowered their weapons, and met the group with a wall of formidable warriors at his back.

"Teal'c!"

The Jaffa looked almost as relieved as Jack felt – and didn't bother to hide it.

"O'Neill. I was concerned for your safety."

Jack nodded.

"It was close for a minute there. Who are your friends?"

"They are-"

"Remus," Sirius interrupted, stepping forward as well. "Who are-"

"You're not going to believe this, Sirius," Lupin said, shaking his head. "They're-"

A screech from above interrupted all of them, and Jack looked up just in time to see something very large and white diving at him impossibly fast.


	14. 14

A large bird diving at you – complete with vicious looking talons and beak – aren't something you see every day. Therefore, it wouldn't have been too surprising that Jack O'Neill froze to find himself seemingly the subject of such an odd attack. It would have startled anyone. He didn't freeze, though. He was battle seasoned and had faced far crazier things than some whacked out bird. And even as he dodged to the side to avoid the talons, he realized that he'd seen the bird before and had no real reason to dodge in the first place.

He wasn't the only one to figure it out, either.

_"Hedwig!"_

The owl flared her wings at the very last instance, turning her dive into a neatly controlled swoop, and landed on a branch right beside Jack's head – just a few feet below Fawkes.

Surprised by the sudden appearance of the owl, the clearing was mostly silent – although several of the centaurs had actually pulled bows and many had managed to knock an arrow onto their strings (testament to just how swift they were with their weapons of choice) – and Sam Carter walked over to Jack, her eyes on the owl.

"Are you okay, sir?"

Jack scowled, but nodded.

"Yeah."

He had come very close to diving for cover, and would have felt foolish for doing so – which annoyed him – but he didn't have time to be annoyed, because he hadn't missed the fact that the owl had a note on her leg.

"She has a note," Daniel said, at the same time Jack realized it.

"Yeah."

He just didn't like getting all that close to those wicked talons and powerful beak. O'Neill was many things, but a bird lover wasn't really one of them. And now he had two of the things looming close at hand.

"Want me to get it, sir?" Carter asked.

Which only made him scowl more. He hated being so transparent. Even with someone who knew him so well.

"I got it."

By this time the wizards in the group had overcome their own surprise at the sudden arrival of the owl and were gathering around.

"That's _Harry's_ bird…" Sirius said.

Jack didn't reply – since it didn't really warrant a response. He reached over – carefully – and untied the note from the owl's leg while she watched him with that piercing unwavering gaze. It was folded about a million times, and took a minute to open, but when he did he felt his stomach clench.

"What does it say?" Sam asked, seeing his expression change from wariness and curiosity to worry.

"It's from Harry's aunt," he said, handing the note over to Sirius, who reached for it. "He's gone."

"Gone?" Daniel echoed.

"She says he vanished from the doorstep – with someone who claimed to be me."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Harry Potter was sitting on the floor in the pitch dark, his arms around his knees and his head resting on his forearms. Mainly because there wasn't anyplace else for him to sit – and there certainly wasn't anything else for him to do.

No one knew where he was – he didn't even know where he was – and there was no way his aunt and uncle would care enough to even think about trying to get a hold of someone in the wizarding world to let them know what had happened. He knew for a fact that they weren't going to call the _police_, either. Not that the Muggle police would be able to do anything even if Uncle Vernon did suddenly decide to call them.

Harry wasn't holding his breath.

In the few hours he'd been here, he hadn't been hurt – of course, he hadn't been fed or given anything to drink, either – but he was sure something was coming. Voldemort wasn't going to give anyone a chance to rescue him. Not this time. Not after Harry had already managed to escape so many times before.

Voldemort was probably just trying to come up with some particularly painful way of dealing with him. One couldn't live as long as the other did, after all… and Harry knew Voldemort knew that, too.

The sound of the door to the room opening brought his head up, and he frowned at the hooded figure that entered silently, back lit by the light in the corridor behind it for just a moment before closing the door tightly. A light flared, making Harry squint for just a moment as he was blinded by it, illuminating the pale face that was under the hood of the cloak.

It was Draco Malfoy.

Harry felt hatred course through him, washing away what little pity he'd felt for his Slytherin counterpart only days before. This was Malfoy's fault. Dumbledore's death was because of Draco. Draco and his evil, twisted father.

"Come to gloat, have you?"

In the light coming from the tip of his wand, Draco looked young and a little scared – but Harry knew better.

"No."

"Then get out."

"You're in danger, Potter…"

"Thanks for the tip, Malfoy. I hadn't figured that one out for myself."

The other boy didn't even scowl.

"I'm serious, Harry. _Real_ danger. They're going to kill you."

Harry snorted in disbelief, his amazement at the naïve statement suppressing his own fear at hearing what he'd expected all along.

"You just figured that out? No wonder you're not in front of any classes except Snape's."

Now Malfoy _did_ scowl.

"I didn't think they were going to _kill_ you…"

"Well what did you _think_ this was all about?" Harry snapped. "Voldemort's been trying to kill me since I was a baby – probably with help from your dad even then – and you're just _now_ catching on?"

Malfoy paled even more – something Harry never would have believed possible.

"You need to get out of here."

"You think?"

It was sarcastic, but Harry couldn't help himself.

"I-"

"I'd love to get out of here," Harry interrupted. "But there's the small problem of probably having every death eater in the world guarding my door – including your good mate _Voldemort_."

"He's not my mate," Malfoy said. "And there aren't many guarding this place… they're all out doing something else. Or looking for someone."

"One or a hundred, it doesn't matter. I'm locked up."

"I can help."


	15. 15

Harry didn't even blink. He'd already been tricked that evening – had almost been tricked _twice_ if not for Dudley – and there wasn't any way he was going to allow himself to be tricked again.

"_Sure_ you will. And your dad will be hiding right behind the door just waiting for a reason to kill me."

Not that he wasn't going to anyways, but he probably _wanted_ to and Voldemort probably had something worse in store for him and wouldn't appreciate Malfoy taking things into his own hands. But if Harry tried to escape…

Draco shook his head.

"My dad doesn't know I'm here."

Harry snorted.

"Right."

"He _doesn't_," Draco insisted. "He's out with the others looking for something."

"What?"

"I don't know. They won't tell me."

"Where's _Snape_?"

Malfoy shook his head.

"I don't know. With them, I guess."

"Well, thanks but no thanks."

"_Potter!"_ Draco hissed. "You have to _listen_ to me!"

"Yeah, I know. They want me _dead_. Big shock."

He didn't feel like anything could shock him just then – and he hated Malfoy almost as much as he hated Snape, so there was absolutely no reason to try and be nice. Besides, he wasn't going to give Malfoy the satisfaction of having him beg for help only to have it snatched back.

"Don't you _care_?"

"No."

Which was a lie, of course, but Malfoy didn't need to know that.

"I can help you get out," Malfoy repeated.

"Yeah? Got a _portkey_ stuffed down your pants, do you?"

Rather than be ticked at the sarcasm – although he was getting visibly annoyed at the lack of enthusiasm Potter was showing – Malfoy reached into his pants.

"No. But I have this."

And he pulled out a wand and handed it to Harry.

OOOOOOOOOO

Sirius looked down at the note in his hand, rereading it.

"We shouldn't have left him there…"

"He's supposed to be safe there, Sirius," Lupin said, coming over to look at the note – and followed by the American wizards. "And Dumbledore insisted that he return there at least one last time."

"Well he _wasn't_ safe, was he?"

"There's no time to get melodramatic, Sirius," Jack told him. "We need to figure out where Voldemort has him."

"We need to make sure it's _Voldemort_ who actually does have him," Minerva said.

"Who else would have taken him?" Jack asked, frowning.

"It might have been one of the other Deatheaters," Sam said, "Acting on orders from Voldemort."

"And they may not have succeeded in delivering Harry Potter to their Master," Teal'c said.

"They probably have, though," Jack said.

"Harry Potter was in danger at his aunt and uncle's house," Lance Truman said, speaking up for the first time since they'd arrived in the clearing.

All eyes turned to the strangers.

"Who are you?" Sirius asked.

"What do you mean?" Daniel asked at the same moment.

Lupin stepped forward to make the introductions before Teal'c could, well aware that he was going to drop a bombshell on the others in the clearing.

"This is Lance Truman… Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor at Ashton's. The other two are Jesse Walker, Headmaster, and Brandon Steele, riding instructor."

"_Ashton's_?" Jack repeated, frowning. He looked over at Carter. "Is that another wizard school?"

She shook her head.

"Not one I've ever heard of."

"It is in the United States," Teal'c said before anyone else could say anything. "And therefore not included in the Harry Potter Histories."

"An American school?" Sirius asked.

"_The_ American school," Lance corrected. "We only have one on our side of the pond."

"I've never heard of an American school…" Minerva said, frowning. "There have been _rumors_, of course, but no one's ever-"

"We're real enough," Lance interrupted, with a wry smile. "We just stay low key for the most part."

"And _we_ don't have the famous Harry Potter going to our school," Brandon added. "So no one wants to write about us."

"I don't understand…" Daniel said. "How can there be wizards in the states?"

"How can there _not_ be?" Sam asked. "I mean; if you think about it, it makes sense. Europe _can't_ have the monopoly on wizard genes, really. It'd be ludicrous to even consider – especially with all the moving people did in the last several hundred years."

Lance nodded his agreement.

"Not as many as you might think – but definitely more than anyone would believe."

"As much as I would love to continue this lesson in Wizard history," Jack said, sarcastically. "What did you mean when you said Harry was in danger at his aunt and uncle's?"

"He couldn't be allowed to stay," Brandon said, speaking for the first time. "The prophecy said he was going to be killed by the Dark One unless he was taken from his family house and brought to the path of the stars."

"Whatever that is," Truman added.

Bane stepped forward.

"You know where the path of the stars is?"

Jesse shook his head.

"We don't have a clue."

"It's not the first time we've heard the phrase," Sam said, frowning and looking over at Jack. "And it's-"

"The prophecy said that it was going to be the brother who found the path…"

"The _blood_ of the brother," Sebastian corrected, stepping forward from amid the hulking centaurs. "The blood of the brother will show the way to the path of the stars…"

"Except that we don't have a clue what that means," Minerva said, her own frustration plain.

"Actually," Brandon said. "I think I might…"


	16. 16

Harry stared at the wand, surprise making him stupid. He'd really expected Malfoy to leave when he'd challenged him. Had expected that it really _was_ some kind of cruel joke he was playing simply to get his amusements from mocking him when he was at his most vulnerable. It wouldn't have been the first time Malfoy's cruel nature came out at the worst and most uncomfortable of times for Harry.

He _certainly_ hadn't expected a wand.

"Where did you get that?"

He'd seen Malfoy's wand and that wasn't it. And he knew it wasn't his own – which was in his trunk under his bed at his Aunt and Uncle's house.

"It's my mother's," Draco said, pressing the wand into Harry's, which closed around it automatically. "She hasn't used it in a while, so I don't know if she'll miss it or not – but I couldn't get hold of anyone else's."

It didn't matter. It wasn't _Harry's_, but he could use it. Maybe he could _escape_, after all. Hope flared up inside him for the first time and he looked at Malfoy uncertainly. What to say? He still didn't like him and he really didn't understand why he was helping him. It had to be a trick – or a joke, but Harry couldn't figure out the punch line if it was a joke, and he couldn't see any trap in the wand.

"You'd better get going," Draco hissed, looking equally uncertain – almost as if he were having second thoughts and might take the wand back. He actually put his hands into his pockets. "I can't help you get out…"

"I didn't expect you to," Harry told him. True enough. He hadn't expected _anything_ from Malfoy.

He stood up, clutching the wand in his hand. He could feel the magic in it, and knew it wasn't one of the fake wands that Fred and George Weasley sold in their shop. A real wand. One that might actually get him out of there.

Draco stood as well, but didn't say anything else. It was plain he was waiting for Harry to make the first move, and make it he did. The light from the corridor outside the room he'd been locked in was too tempting, and he headed for the door, wand in front of him and at the ready. He was as good at Defense Against the Dark Arts as any of the death eaters – as long as they didn't gang up on him – so he was feeling a little more confident as he moved.

As he reached the doorway, he concentrated with all his might – as well as he could with the slight tingling in the part of his mind that didn't trust Malfoy no matter what he said and was waiting for a trap to be sprung – and focused on sending himself elsewhere. He would have used the thought anywhere, but he could only think of one place just then. The only place he was certain there wasn't a death eater. He couldn't go there directly, but he knew how close he could get, and that was what he focused his thoughts on, concentrating as hard as he could on a certain spot and telling himself over and over that that was where he wanted to be.

He felt himself stretch impossibly thin and then felt something snap inside and heard a loud crack as he apparated. An instant later he found himself standing just on the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village.

He gave a shout of excitement as he realized he'd managed to do exactly what he'd intended – something he hadn't been entirely certain he'd be _able_ to do – and then took off at a run towards Hogwarts.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"The boy escaped…"

The death eater who brought the news cringed, fully expecting a blow. Voldemort, however, simply looked up from the orb he'd been staring at and nodded.

"I know."

The death eater nodded, clearly relieved that his master hadn't exploded as he'd expected him to.

"We'll find him," he promised.

The Dark Lord shook his head.

"There's no need. I know where he is – and where he's going. When I need him, I'll be able to take him."

"I don't understand…"

"That's right, you don't. Leave me and return to the search."

Now there was a trace of the cold-bloodedness that the man had expected earlier, and he bowed deeply and made a hasty retreat out of the room, grateful to have escaped unscathed.

Voldemort turned to the man who had been standing close at hand.

"Your son is a disappointment, Lucius. Bring him to me."

"My lord, what he did was-"

"He didn't know it, though. Bring him to me."

There was a moment – just the slightest moment – of hesitation, but Lucius Malfoy straightened his features into the mask he normally wore and bowed.

"Yes, my lord."

He turned and left the room.

OOOOOOOOOO

All eyes on him, Brandon Steele didn't wait for them to ask the question he was sure they all wanted to ask.

"I'm not positive, of course," he started. "But it's very likely that the phrase _path of the stars_ could mean the same thing as _course of the blood_."

"How do you come to _that_ conclusion?" Jack asked, scowling at the wasted time the interruption was causing – and the fact that the guy didn't seem to have a clue what he was talking about.

He was the only one scowling, though. Several of the centaurs were watching the American with interest, and Minerva was looking at him in surprise – and with a slightly distracted expression, which made one think that she wasn't completely thinking about the conversation at hand just then.

"If you think about it," Brandon told them, "path and course are pretty much the same thing."

"They could be, I suppose," Sirius agreed. "But-"

"But how do you get blood and stars?" Sam asked.

Before the American wizard could speak up, however, it was Daniel who replied.

"Because many ancient races – and I mean the _very_ ancient ones – thought of the sky as their origins, and as their bodies. The sun was their _heart_ – a binding factor that is the very start to religion as the Mayans and the Egyptians knew of it, worshiping the sun as if it were a god – and one that made them less afraid of the vast emptiness around them at night. If they could claim a kinship with the lights in the skies at night, there was less reason to fear them."

"What does that have to do with stars, Daniel?" Jack asked, impatiently.

Daniel was used to it, though, and was far from offended or hurt.

"The sun was their _heart_, but the stars were their _blood_. Where all life started and began. Which we know, now, is true – and probably something that they passed down through generations until it finally became a myth and then even less that that – which is why there are some very primitive drawings on cave walls that clearly show people coming from the stars."

"But what does it have to do with this?" Sam asked, intrigued despite the seriousness. She wasn't the study of ancient man that Daniel was, obviously, but she still found their beginnings fascinating. "That was a very long time ago…"

"Because," Minerva said, drawing everyone's attention. "There's a spell. A spell so old that no one I know even knows the incantation."

"What kind of spell?" Jack asked.

"It was supposedly used for protection," Brandon said.

"From what?"

"Anything."

"Nothing can protect against _everything_…" Jack objected. "Especially not-"

"You don't know that, though," Minerva said, shaking her head. "It's _magic_, Jack. A lot more can be done with magic than you might believe."

"How does it work?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Brandon admitted. "I've studied the history of our people as far back as I could, and I've only seen one or two references total – and in writings that are incredibly obscure."

"That's not much help," Jack pointed out.

Bane snorted.

"Perhaps we can help, after all," he said, once everyone was looking at him. "I now understand why Sebastian was told to bring us in to help."

"Why?" Jack asked, and all the centaurs were looking as if they'd wanted to ask that very same question.

"Because _our_ records are much more complete than those of your people," he said. "What was once lost to the wizards has never been lost to us – although we might not realize what we have."

"You keep _records_?" Daniel asked, clearly excited by the thought.

"Of course. How else would we know all that we know?"

"You are assuming your archives hold a record of this spell?" Teal'c asked.

Bane shrugged, but nodded.

"If there's a record anywhere, it'll be there."


	17. 17

_Author's Note: just to address the American wizard thing. I know the books refer to them occasionally, but this is my own take on things, and I needed them to be a little less exposed. It makes things more fun that way._

OOOOOOOOOO

"Where is this record kept?" Sirius asked, not even trying to hide his interest.

Now Bane _did_ scowl, the expression that Sam had originally expected finally coming to the forefront.

"We do not allow wizards to know the location of our sanctum."

The rest of the centaurs all nodded their agreement.

"There's too much chance that someone might get the notion to try and make the knowledge their own," Rip explained, looking at Jack. "It could be a disaster, really – especially if the wizard was of evil intent."

"Like Voldemort," Sam said.

"Exactly."

"We know they're not _all_ bad," Bane said - this time a little more polite. "But we won't chance it."

"What about _non-wizards_, though?" Daniel asked. "_We're_ not wizards. _We_ wouldn't be able to use the spells or whatever are there…"

There was no question that Daniel was anxious to see this sanctum the centaurs were talking about. Which only made sense, of course, since it was an entirely new culture to Daniel and he was eager to learn as much about them as he could.

Bane looked at the others, questioningly, but none of them said anything.

"Give us a moment to discuss this," he answered, moving over towards the middle of the clearing. He was immediately followed by the rest of the centaurs, who turned tail on the humans in the clearing, effectively shutting them out of the conversation.

Sirius frowned.

"It's probably not safe for you to be in the forest alone, Sam…"

"We're not going to be alone. We'll be with the centaurs."

"No one'll mess with them, that's certain," Hagrid agreed. "There's nothing in the forest that would be stupid enough to pick a fight with a group of centaurs."

"Except maybe Voldemort," Sirius said. "He hasn't exactly won the award for the sanest person around, after all."

Lupin shook his head.

"Hagrid is right, Sirius. If the centaurs agree to it, they'll be safe with them."

"And what are _we_ supposed to do?" he asked, frustrated. "Twiddle our fingers?"

"You _could_ work on finding Harry," Jack told him. "That's what _I'd_ be doing if I were a wizard."

"We _are_ working on it, Jack," Minerva told him, patiently. "We have people out trying to find out where Voldemort's holding him as we speak."

O'Neill scowled, but didn't reply, not trusting himself to keep it civilized. He was concerned about Harry, and railing at the fact that they didn't seem to be doing anything to find him and rescue him.

"They can't do anything without intel, Jack," Daniel told him, recognizing the warning signs rather easily. "You know that."

"Yeah, but-"

He was interrupted by the centaurs, who turned almost as a group back towards the humans.

"It is agreed that we'll take O'Neill and one of the other non-wizards," Bane said. "No one else."

Now it was Sirius' turn to frown, but Daniel didn't let him say anything.

"I'll go."

He looked at Sam, hopefully, and she nodded, not at all upset or surprised that he offered.

"That's a good choice, Colonel," she said. "Daniel knows more about the ancient cultures than I do – or Teal'c, for that matter. He'd be the best choice to help."

Jack nodded his agreement and turned to the centaurs, who were watching the exchange.

"So I guess it's the two of us."

Zip stepped forward.

"I will carry you, O'Neill."

"And I'm going to take you," Bane told Daniel, also stepping closer. He looked at the others. "We'll return shortly.

He stood rock steady while Daniel scrambled up onto his back with a bit of difficulty, and Zip reached back and made a stirrup for Jack out of his hand – which O'Neill accepted willingly.

"Find Harry," he told Sirius as Zip turned on his hind legs and tensed to run.

And then, in a thunder of hooves, they were gone.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Lucius Malfoy felt sick as he went to look for his son. The boy had done wrong, yes. But the plan had been for Potter to escape anyways, so it hadn't actually ruined anything – merely set events into motion a little sooner than they'd intended. However, the senior Malfoy knew that Voldemort wasn't going to take that into account when he spoke to Draco, and that was what had him so upset.

That concern grew when he realized that he couldn't find the boy. A quick look around the manor house showed it to be almost empty – all but a couple of the death eaters were out looking for this spell or whatever it was that had his master so preoccupied – and Draco wasn't in his room, or the kitchen, or any of the other places he was likely to be found.

"_Ledrist!"_

There was an immediate pop and a grungy house elf appeared out of nowhere, cringing.

"Master has called?"

Malfoy sneered, reminded by the appearance of his new servant of the reason why he didn't have Dobby anymore. The Potter boy had tricked him into freeing him with a smelly sock, and had cost him dearly. Not that Dobby was _irreplaceable_ – no house elf was – but he'd lost a lot of face that day as well, and Potter had come out on top. Which had simply made him that much more insufferable. And now the boy had managed to somehow get his own son to turn on him and his master! He should have killed Potter when he had the chance.

"Have you seen Draco?"

The grubby little house elf cringed even lower.

"The young master has left, Master."

"_What?"_

"He left, Master."

"When? Where did he go?"

"Ledrist does not know, Master. He did not-"

"_Why didn't you stop him?!"_

Which was a stupid question, really. The house elf had no more control over Draco than Lucius did over Voldemort, but it didn't stop him from being furious. He aimed a kick at the elf, sending him tumbling head over heels across the room, and then stormed out, yelling for the remaining death eaters. He had to find Draco. _Had to_.

Before Voldemort or one of the Order of the Phoenix did.


	18. 18

_Author's Note: The site doesn't seem to be sending off any alerts, so I hope people are getting a chance to read it. _

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

By the time he reached the castle, Harry was drenched in sweat and out of breath. One hand clasped tightly to his aching side and the other clutching the wand Malfoy had given him, Harry charged into the main hall, hoping to see any one of the many teachers at the school. It occurred to him then that he didn't really have a clue which teachers actually lived at Hogwarts year round and which ones lived somewhere else in the summer.

Figuring his best bet would be to find McGonagall, Harry headed for the Head Master's – now Mistress' – office, sliding to a breathless stop in front of the gargoyles that guarded the staircase to what had only a few weeks ago been Dumbledore's office.

_"Gum Drops!"_

Nothing happened.

_"Pumpkin Pasty!"_

Again, nothing. Harry felt despair and frustration roil his stomach, making it tighten up.

_"Lolly-pops! Chocolate Frogs! Licorice wands!"_

Nothing.

"Arggh!"

He pointed the wand at the door, seriously considering throwing some kind of spell at it that might knock the gargoyles out of the way – although he was pretty sure, even through his frustration, that nothing he did was going to get him beyond the door without a password.

"Harry Potter!"

Turning, Harry saw Dobby had come up to stand behind him.

"Dobby!"

The little house elf smiled hugely, his eyes watering with tears of joy.

"Dobby was _just_ thinking about Harry Potter and wondering how he was coping with the loss of-"

"Dobby," Harry interrupted. "Do you know where Professor McGonagall is?"

The elf shook his head, his eyes suddenly sad.

"She is not in the castle, Harry Potter."

"Does she live close by? Do you know? Is there anyone else here that I could talk to?"

"Professor McGonagall was here just this morning. I saw her when I cleaned her office. But-"

"She went somewhere?"

Dobby nodded.

"I could find out, Harry Potter. The portraits will know."

Harry groaned, inwardly. He hadn't even thought to ask the people in the many portraits on the walls. If anyone knew what was going on in the school, it was always the people in the pictures. They saw everything.

"Would you find out? Please?"

The little elf beamed, delightedly.

"Dobby will do anything for Harry Potter! Even-"

"I'll be in the owlery."

Dobby snapped his fingers and vanished with a loud crack.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Not really all that far away, another young man was making his way towards a meeting. He wasn't running, although he was definitely panting, and he was constantly looking over his shoulder as if he expected to be followed and accosted at any moment.

Scurrying up to a small cottage that was almost completely hidden in a heavy growth of native brush and rock, he tapped on the door, jumping back once he had as if expecting to be attacked by whoever answered.

A moment later, the door opened, and a hooded figure appeared.

"Did you do it?"

"Yes. He's free."

"And they know it was you?"

Draco Malfoy nodded, his face pale and scared.

"Yes."

"Excellent, Draco," Severus Snape said, reaching out and taking hold of the boy's arm and pulling him inside. "The Dark Lord will be pleased."

"He's going to kill me."

Snape closed the door behind them, and as soon as he did, the little cottage turned almost completely invisible once more.

"He's probably very angry now, yes. But when he realizes what we've done, he'll thank us."

Draco didn't look convinced, but Snape wasn't worried.

"Come. Have something to drink. You've had a long day."

It wasn't every day that someone betrayed his Master, after all.

OOOOOOOOO

"How far is this place?" Daniel Jackson asked, shifting a little to ease the ache in his rear and legs.

"Not much further," Bane assured him. "Stop wiggling, will you? It's uncomfortable."

Daniel scowled, but forced himself to hold still.

"You should try it from where I'm sitting," he muttered, having lost a large amount of excitement about seeing the centaur sanctuary several miles of riding ago.

"You wanted to come," Jack reminded him from up on Zip's back.

Either Jack was more skilled at riding, or Zip had a smoother gait than Bane, because he didn't seem to be suffering at all – even bareback on a much broader back than any horse ever had.

"I still want to come," Daniel said. "I just want to be able to walk when we get there."

"The sanctum is hidden in what used to be the very center of the forest, Daniel," Bane said.

"The forest is smaller now?" Jack asked.

"No," Bane replied. "Much larger. But because of Hogwarts being on this edge, that part of the forest hasn't changed so much, so we're closer than you might think to the center…"

"And you really think this place will have information about this spell?" Jack asked.

"There's only one way to find out," Bane said reasonably. He looked up at the sky, and frowned. "There's a storm coming. We should hurry."

He moved from the off-beat trot they'd been going in to a much faster clip, and Daniel winced again, but didn't say anything. He just held on tight.


	19. 19

There was parchment in the owlery. It was for people who wanted to send a quick note but hadn't had time to pen it before hand. At least it was there during the school year, and Harry could only hope that it was still there during the summer break. He climbed the stairs to the tower as quickly as he could, panting and wincing against the stitch in his side.

Luckily the parchment was right where he remembered it to be, on a little desk just inside the door, and he hesitated as he picked up a quill, uncertain who to write to to let them know what was going on. He couldn't send anything to Sirius since he wasn't positive the owl would be able to find anyone in the Order if they were in hiding, and with another pang – this time in his chest and not in his side – he was reminded once more of the fact that he'd never write to Dumbledore again.

He couldn't write anyone in the Ministry – he didn't really know anyone in the Ministry except Mr. Weasley and…

"The Weasleys!"

He'd write to them. Mr. Weasley would be able to get hold of someone in the Order – probably even Sirius or Lupin – and then they'd know where to find him and could come and get him.

"Unless Voldemort gets hold of the message…" Harry muttered to himself, tapping the end of the pen against his lip thoughtfully. He wished he had Hedwig; she'd know to avoid anyone but the Weasleys if he told her to.

He frowned, and decided that sending the note to the Weasleys was still the best way to go. He'd just have to word it carefully so Voldemort or one of the other Death eaters wouldn't be able to figure it out if they managed to get the message.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"So what do we do?" Sam asked, looking at Sirius as soon as Jack and Daniel had vanished with the two centaurs.

He looked at the other centaurs gathered in the clearing.

"We could wait here. You'd be safe here."

"Our peril is not at issue," Teal'c told him. "And standing around waiting is not an arrangement I am well suited for."

Sam gave the wizards an apologetic look.

"We're used to doing something…" she explained, unnecessarily.

Sirius nodded, but it was Jesse who spoke.

"Why don't we go check out the restricted section of the library at the school?" he suggested. "It's always possible that something about this blood spell might be in there."

Minerva shook her head.

"I've read the books in the restricted section. There's nothing in there about this kind of ancient spell… I'd have seen it."

"But you didn't know what you were looking for," Lance Truman pointed out. "Maybe you saw it and skipped over it without realizing it."

She frowned, but Lupin shrugged.

"It's always possible, Minerva…"

"I suppose…"

"Besides, the library would be far more comfortable standing around out here," Hagrid said, "and I dare say none of you have eaten in a while – or gotten any sleep."

That much was definitely true for Sam. The entire night had passed, and she hadn't had anything to eat in quite a while. Sleep she could live without for a time, but her stomach was gnawing at her now that Hagrid had made her aware of it.

Besides, she'd eaten his cooking, and it was wonderful. She looked at Sirius, hopefully, and he nodded.

"We could go back to the castle and check out the library."

"I'd like to see it," Brandon said, smiling. "From the description in the books, it's far more impressive than our own."

"It's the biggest library on wizarding in the world," Hagrid told him proudly.

Minerva smiled.

"There are a couple of private collections that are just as large – although not as varied, perhaps."

They all turned towards the castle, with a group of the centaurs coming around them to give them an escort to the edge of the woods. After all, nothing would mess with a herd of centaurs – and there was a formidable group of wizards to protect themselves on the way into the castle.

None of them saw the small insect that detached itself from Hagrid's coat only moments after they left the Forest. The humans were heading for the castle, and the centaurs had melted back into the woods. The insect waited, watching, and then bounded behind a small bush. A moment later there was a rustling noise, as if something much larger was now in that space, and then there was a loud crack. Then the bush and the area around it was still, as if nothing had ever been there.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Master…"

The Death eater who spoke did so with care. Voldemort was in a foul mood, and had already punished two of his followers for interrupting him. The last thing Wormtail wanted was to writhe on the floor the way the other two had.

Voldemort looked up, his red eyes mere slits on his face, although they exuded pure evil.

"What do you want, Wormtail?"

The tone clearly said it had better be good – or else.

"Forgive me, Master… you said you wanted to be told when Yilwe returned…"

The eyes narrowed even further.

"Has he returned?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then why isn't he in here!"

The shout made Wormtail flinch, cowering and covering his head with his arm. An arm that glinted in the faint light of the room.

"He's coming, Master… He just wasn't certain if you wanted him to-"

"I told you I wanted to be informed when he arrived!"

A wand was suddenly in a hand that an instant before was empty, and a bolt of light leapt from the end of it and struck Wormtail full force, knocking him over and sending him skidding across the floor.

The little man whimpered, but pulled himself upright.

"I'll bring him right now, Master."

"Do that."

Less than a minute later, a man walked through the door. Completely nondescript, with brown hair and brown eyes and the most average face anyone could ever find, he hesitated just a moment, and quailed under Voldemort's direct glare.

"Well?"

"They know about the path of the blood, Master."

"And have they figured out what it is?"

"A spell."

"I knew that. Have they found it?"

"No, Master. The Centaurs took the Muggles to look for it."

"And you didn't go?"

The Deatheater paled.

"I couldn't get close enough to follow."

A frustrated sigh escaped the Dark Lord's lips, and he turned and looked at the fire for a long moment.

"I want that spell found."

The Death eater nodded, and bowed low – although he never took his eyes off Voldemort (just in case he needed to dodge something hurled at him).

"Yes, Master."

The man turned and hurried out of the room, and Voldemort allowed himself another frustrated sound.

"I need that spell," he muttered. "Before they get it."


	20. 20

_Author's Note: Okay, I had to make a huge fix to this chapter because I'm stupid! Hehe, but I got it changed and hopefully before too many people realize just how bad a mistake I made with the other one!_

OOOOOOOO

"The first thing we should do is get in touch with Petunia and Vernon…"

Sirius scowled.

"Why? They don't care about Harry."

Sam shrugged, holding up the letter they'd taken from Hedwig.

"They cared enough to send this letter."

"Probably just wanted-"

Above them Hedwig gave a sharp hoot, and her white wings flared widely as she dove over them, heading for the castle. She was followed instantly by Fawkes, who was singing a sweet song that made Carter and the others smile for no apparent reason.

Then they all saw what the birds were heading for. A form running across the castle grounds towards them, waving his arms and shouting at them.

_"Harry!"_

As a group they bolted towards him, and only Teal'c held back.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"This is _it_?"

Zip looked over at Daniel, amused more than offended.

"What were you expecting?"

The archeologist flushed, realizing that he hadn't been very polite. But he'd been bounced around on the back of the centaur for over two hours, and the centaur sanctuary wasn't all that impressive.

It was a rock; with a large hole in it, and a strange creature that Daniel couldn't even begin to put a name to lounging in front of it, obviously guarding the entrance.

"I don't know… a palace or a temple of some sort, I guess."

Bane snorted – sounding very much like a horse.

"We couldn't very well hide a _palace_ in the Forest, now could we?"

"No one comes in here, though…" Jack reminded them.

"They do. Just not _often_. Wizards – at least many of them – would do almost anything to locate this place if they knew it existed."

"It's just a hole in a rock," Daniel said. "How-"

"It _looks_ like a hole in a rock," Zip corrected. "It's much more, I assure you."

It'd _have_ to be as far as Jack was concerned. He slid off Zip's back, his legs aching a bit at the motion.

"Let's check it out then."

They had to get back as soon as they could, after all. Harry was still missing, and Jack hated the thought of what Voldemort might be doing to him.

"Wait, Jack," Zip told him, grabbing hold of the back of his shirt to stop him.

"But-"

"Watch."

Bane moved forward with Daniel still on his back. As they approached, the creature looked up, suddenly very alert.

"What is that thing?" Jack asked, curiously as Bane bowed awkwardly to it.

"A manticore."

"_Really?"_

Zip nodded.

"It's the only one of its kind. At least the only one that we know of – and we're pretty sure _it_ would know if there were more of its kind out there somewhere."

"Aren't they dangerous?" Daniel asked, nervously. He would know, after all. He'd read the tales and seen some inscriptions on the walls of various European digs.

Bane shook his head.

"That's a common misconception."

"And one that we helped foster through the past centuries," Zip added.

"Why?"

"So no one will risk death to pass by me should they make it this far."

Daniel and Jack both stared at the creature, which had definitely been the one to answer the question. It was certainly looking at them with a gleam of amusement in its little black eyes.

"It talks!" Daniel exclaimed, stepping forward to get a better look.

Jack reached over and pulled him back by the collar.

"It might _bite_…"

That was all they needed right now was for Daniel to get rabies or something.

The creature pulled its lips back in what could only be called a smile of sorts – and showed a large array of wickedly sharp teeth at the same time.

"Only _prey_, I assure you." It stood up onto all four legs and stretched mightily. "Now, I assume you seek entrance into the centaur's sanctuary?"

Jack looked over at the two centaurs, and then nodded.

"Yeah. I guess so."

The manticore looked at Daniel, who nodded.

"Yes."

"Step forward, then, please."

O'Neill frowned, but took a step closer to the creature, which in turn moved right up in front of him. It was almost as large as he was, and looked ready to bite him in half, but Jack had the sudden feeling that the thing was examining him in minute detail – and not the way he'd eye a beer.

"You have magic in your ancestry…" it finally said.

"So they tell me."

"_That_ should be interesting…"

Daniel frowned.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because the spell that guards the sanctuary doesn't permit wizards or witches to enter. Colonel O'Neill here carries the blood of a powerful wizard."

"But he's not magic," Daniel pointed out.

"I know," the manticore said, showing the toothy smile once more. "Which is why it should be interesting to see if one outweighs the other with the spell."

"And if it doesn't?" Jack asked.

"Then it should be interesting."

"No wizard could ever pass the guardian spell, Jack," Bane said. "And for good reason. _You're_ not magical, though. You'll be fine."

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure," Zip told him.

"How did you know my name?" Jack asked the manticore, suddenly. It had even called him by his rank, and he knew no one had called him that in front of the creature.

"Because _you_ know it," came the answer. The manticore moved to the side, and gestured towards the opening. "Pass into the sanctuary, friend, and seek your answers within."

He wanted a better answer than that, but it wasn't coming obviously. The creature turned towards Daniel – undoubtedly to check him for magical properties before allowing him to enter – and left Jack to walk through the entrance without any more ceremony.

With another scowl, O'Neill stepped into the hole – and immediately felt something grab him and hold him immobile for a long moment before whatever it was released him and he found he could walk once more. A moment later Daniel was standing beside him in the semi darkness of the opening, and both men waited – although neither knew what they were waiting for.

Then there was a brilliant flash of light, and suddenly they found themselves in another place entirely – moved without even feeling it happen. There was a wall in front of them. A smooth wall that looked to be made of marble – and felt like it, too, when Jack reached his hand out to touch it.

"Come in, Jack… Daniel…"

They turned at the sound of the voice, and stared. In front of them was a room. A room easily as large as the entire castle of Hogwarts – and filled from floor to ceiling with scrolls, books and all sorts of odds and ends that they had no words for – and no description to give.

"Wow."

Zip smiled, amused at the reaction – and proud, as well.

"Welcome to the centaur sanctum."


	21. 21

_Author's Note: So, time to get back to this story before the last book comes out and I lose all chance at being original! You'll probably have to go back and re-read the rest of it. I did._

OOOOOOOOOO

Daniel barely looked at Zip; his gaze was transfixed on the room they were in.

"This is incredible!"

Jack had to agree – although he wasn't quite as impressed as Daniel.

The centaur smiled, looking proud and pleased at their awe.

"Who built this?" Daniel asked, walking over to the nearest wall and reaching out to touch one of the shelves. It shivered under his touch, and he jerked his hand back, startled.

Bane walked over and touched the same shelf, and Jack was positive he heard the damned thing purr at the touch.

"Our ancestors built it."

"It must have taken years."

"_Centuries_," Zip corrected, walking over as well. "They took centuries."

Jack frowned.

"How does it work?"

"What do you mean?"

Unlike the rest of SG-1, the centaurs weren't used to the way Jack would change the subject at the drop of a hat and move on to another one.

"How do we use it?" Jack asked, reaching for one of the shelves like Daniel had. Sure enough, the thing shivered at his touch, but he didn't pull away. "Is there a Dewey Decimal system?"

"A what?"

"A way to categorize the information," Daniel explained, surprised that Jack had asked that particular question before he'd even considered the matter of finding the information they needed. "Something to make it easier to find what we're looking for…"

"Just speak your need…" Bane replied. "The room will know the scroll you seek."

Jack frowned, and looked over at Daniel – who shrugged.

Looking up at the room in general – and feeling more than a little ridiculous – spoke.

"Yeah, uh… We need to know about the Path of the Stars…"

"No," Daniel corrected, looking around as well. "We need to know about the _Course of the Blood_."

Jack scowled.

"Same thing."

Before Daniel could reply, the walls of the sanctuary lit up from within, emitting a soft glow that grew brighter in an area to their left, drawing their attention that way. As humans and centaurs all watched, a single shelf lit up even lighter than the walls around it, and on that shelf a scroll shone brightly.

"There is the information we seek," Bane said, his deep gravelly voice a little subdued. "Retrieve it."

Jack looked over at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"You sought the information, you must retrieve it."

Jack looked over at Daniel, who looked suddenly pale.

"You heard him. Go get it."

He was the one who had corrected him, after all.

Daniel swallowed, but nodded, and walked slowly over to the shelf and reached out his hand. The scroll in question glowed brightly, but looked so ancient that he was certain it was going to crumble the moment he touched it. _Daniel_ knew all about old scrolls, after all. When he picked it up, however, it felt like it was new. There wasn't even so much as a crinkling noise. It certainly didn't fall apart in his hand.

He turned to Jack, who was watching, concerned.

"I'm okay."

"Is it hot?"

"No. It's fine."

The scroll was held closed by a scruffy-looking piece of cloth that looked like nothing more than a simple rag. Unless you looked closely at it as Daniel did as he started to slide it off the rolled paper. The cloth was earth colored, covered in symbols that looked somewhat familiar to Daniel – although he wasn't certain where they were from or what they meant. Of course, it was hardly new for him to run across things that seemed familiar, considering his background in all things ancient. Like this scroll obviously was. Since the wizard world was from Earth, there was no reason Daniel wouldn't have run across something connected with them in his many years of digging. Hidden or not, no people who had been around so long could completely hide themselves from others. That was where myths came from, after all.

He didn't really have time to examine the cloth, however. Jack and the centaurs were watching and waiting, and he was well aware that Jack was in a hurry to start looking for Harry.

Sure enough, Jack spoke up almost immediately.

"What does it say?"

"I don't know…"

He unrolled the scroll carefully, but the writing on the paper was complete gibberish to him.

"What the hell is _that_?"

Jack had come up beside him and was looking over his shoulder.

"I'm not sure…" Daniel admitted. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Is it some ancient wizard language?"

Daniel shook his head.

"I'd at least recognize something. Symbols or something. I recognize some of the symbols on the cloth that held it closed, after all, even though I'm not sure what they say. _This_…" he held up the scroll, "is completely foreign to me."

Bane had walked over as well, easily peering over Daniel's head to look at the scroll as well.

"It isn't a language," he said. "It's a code."

Jack looked up at him surprised.

"What kind of code?"

Daniel sighed.

"Probably a way to make sure that no one reads this that shouldn't."

"Well, what do we do now?" Jack asked.

"Hand the scroll to O'Neill," Bane told Daniel.

"What?"

"Give the scroll to Jack. Perhaps _he_ is one who it is meant for…"

Daniel frowned, but handed the scroll over to Jack, who took it gingerly.

"What am I supposed to – _whoa_!"

Even as they watched, the symbols on the scroll changed. The letters were still small and cramped, and not very neatly written, but it was definitely written in a version of English that even Jack could decipher.

Bane gave a satisfied nod.

"As I suspected."

"What?"

"Jack O'Neill carries the blood of Godric Gryffindor, and yet is not a wizard himself. The scroll has been waiting for someone of the blood and hiding its message from all others."

"But no one can get in here," Daniel said. "What's the point?"

Jack answered first.

"Because no place is completely secure, Daniel. No matter how much it may seem to be."

"The question is," Zip said, moving close, too. "What is so important that it must remain hidden so?"


	22. 22

Severus Snape waited several long minutes after Draco Malfoy had left the room, seeking the small cot in the far room to take a nap, before he spoke again.

"You can come out now."

The man who answered him emerged from out of nowhere it seemed. Dark haired, with a handsome face marred by several long scars, he looked everywhere as he came into the center of the room – obviously someone who was used to being cautious, even when he was with people he knew.

"He's gone?"

"He's _asleep_."

"You're certain?"

Snape gave him an impatient look.

"I'm certain."

"Did he do it?"

"Potter has escaped, yes."

"And has returned to his friends?"

"I don't know. Knowing Potter, he could have ended up running right back into The Death Eaters. He doesn't have his friends with him to keep him going in the right direction, after all."

The man ignored the last part. In fact, he probably hadn't heard it at all. He was watching the door that led to the other room.

"You're _sure_ he's asleep…?"

"Do you want me to wake him up to prove it?" Snape asked impatiently.

"I can't be too certain, Severus," the man said, softly, by way of a sort of an apology. "You know what the Dark Lord would do to me if he knew I was still-"

"The Dark Lord has other things on his mind right now, Regulus," Snape interrupted. "You're way down on the list."

"So you say," the man sneered. "How are you going to know when to make your next move?"

"Let me worry about that. What are _you_ going to do now?"

"You let _me_ worry about that."

With that, he opened the door, looked around cautiously, and slipped out into the night.

Snape shook his head and shut the door behind him.

OOOOOOOOOO

Harry Potter was grinning with relief when he finally met up with the others. The relief turned to surprise when he saw Sam with them.

"_Harry_!" Arthur Weasley cried. "Are you all right?"

He nodded, breathlessly.

"I am now."

"We were told you were kidnapped…" Sirius said, frowning. "What's-"

"I was," Harry interrupted. He looked chagrined. "One of the Death Eaters pretended to be Jack and tricked me… how did you know?"

"Your aunt and uncle sent your owl with a message."

"They _did_?"

He couldn't have looked more shocked if Sirius had told him he was really a goat in disguise.

Sam nodded.

"How did you get away?"

"Draco Malfoy."

Now it was everyone else's turn to look shocked.

"What?"

Harry shrugged.

"He helped me escape."

"Why would he do that?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "But he looked really scared."

"If he helped you escape from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named then he had every reason to be scared…" Arthur Weasley said. "I just don't understand why he'd help you…"

"Unless it's a _trick_," Sam said. "Or a trap of some sort."

She _was_ military, after all and trained to be suspicious. Although not as readily suspicious of people as Jack – and who _was_, really? – she was more than aware that not everyone had altruistic reasons for helping people.

The wizards around her all looked around uneasily, suddenly aware of just how much open land there was around them.

"Let's get into the castle," Sirius suggested. "We can talk there as easily as here."

The others all nodded their agreement, and as a group headed into the school.

Harry fell in beside Sam – who was towered over by Teal'c's massive form.

"Who are _those_ guys?" he asked, softly, gesturing towards the American wizards.

"We'll make introductions inside," Sam told him.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Petunia, honey, come to bed…"

"I'm not tired, Vernon."

"You're making _me_ tired."

She'd been pacing for hours, now, ever since they'd sent off the owl.

"I'm worried."

"Why? His weirdo friends have probably saved him by now."

She whirled.

"And if they _haven't_?"

"There's nothing we can do," he told her, grumpily. "You did your share sending off the message."

She sighed, and sat down on the bench under the window, looking out into the night, and Vernon made another annoyed noise and pulled the blankets over his head.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Petunia wasn't the only one pacing that night. Lord Voldemort, too, was pacing – although no one dared interrupt him to tell him to go to bed.

The door opened behind him and he turned just in time to see Lucius Malfoy enter.

"Did you find him?"

"No, My Lord. Not yet."

The red eyes narrowed menacingly.

"Why do I suspect you're not trying as hard as you should be, Lucius?"

Malfoy's already pale face turned ashen.

"I have several people out looking, My Lord. We'll find him."

"I want _you_ out looking. And I want that boy found."

The Dark Lord turned back to his pacing, and Malfoy correctly took that as a dismissal and left.


	23. 23

"What does it say?" Daniel asked curiously. He couldn't really read the tiny, odd writing over Jack's shoulder.

Jack was having trouble with it, too, and it was right in front of him. _He_ wasn't used to reading old parchment, or holding scrolls open. Just as he realized that the problem wasn't that he couldn't tell what the letters were, but that it was written in something that was probably Old English – or a form of it – the letters on the paper actually changed right in front of him. _Now_ it was a more common form of English that he was accustomed to – although the language of the text was still somewhat archaic.

"It doesn't make any sense," he said, turning the scroll over awkwardly, looking to see if there was something else written on the back.

"What does it say?" Daniel asked again, impatiently.

Jack scowled.

_"'Ancient blood, ancient bond, one who cannot use a wand. Protections come from those who have passed, once this potent spell is cast.'"_

Daniel frowned.

"What does that mean?"

Jack, however, didn't hear the question. No sooner had he finished reading the scroll than it vanished from his hand and he felt a lurch – like the floor below him had suddenly moved sharply. Staggered, he managed to keep from falling only by bracing a hand against Bane's solid equine shoulder.

The others all noticed immediately, of course.

"Jack O'Neill…" Bane said, reaching out and steadying him with a large hand. "Are you ill?"

Jack shook his head, although he actually _did_ feel a little sick.

"Where'd the thing go?"

Daniel's frown had never left his face, although now it was concerned.

"Are you all right?"

He'd rarely seen his friend so pale.

"Look!"

This was from Zip, who had seen a bright flash out of the corner of his eye. They all turned to the shelf that had held the scroll originally, and saw that it had returned to where it had been in the first place.

"Are you hurt?" Daniel asked, more concerned about Jack than the scroll just then.

He shook his head, but was still leaning heavily against Bane, who was standing completely still to lend him the support.

"Jack O'Neill," Bane said, his expression serious. "You activated the magic of the scroll…"

"What?"

The big centaur shrugged.

"Otherwise it would not have returned itself to its place. The spell is set."

"What spell?" Daniel asked. "I didn't-"

"I'm not _magical_," Jack reminded him. "I couldn't have done it."

"Nevertheless, you must have done the-"

"It said something about someone who couldn't use a wand," Daniel interrupted; going over in his mind what Jack had read before the scroll had vanished. "That could mean you…"

"It must mean you," Zip agreed.

Jack shook his head, pushing away from Bane, but surprised to find that he was still unsteady.

"It might have meant Daniel. Or you guys. You can't use wands, right?"

"We have no need to," Bane replied.

"I couldn't read the scroll," Daniel pointed out. "Obviously it wasn't meant for me."

"Well what does it mean, then?" Jack asked, unwilling to argue when he knew they were probably right – whether he wanted them to be or not.

"_Ancient blood, ancient bond_…" Daniel quoted. "Could be the wizard blood you have… and the protections coming from those who've passed might mean the wizards who've already died…"

"Or it could refer to the blood bond you share with the Dark Lord," Bane said. "Old scrolls were often ambiguous."

Jack looked up at him.

"Did you know this was going to happen?"

"No."

"Scrolls do not normally carry magical properties, Jack," Zip told him.

"Even magical ones?"

"Especially magical ones. The magic is in the _user_, not the paper."

"Then why did this one?" Daniel asked.

"I cannot say," Bane admitted, although he looked almost annoyed at the question – or the fact that he didn't know the answer. "Perhaps because of what is to come."

"What do you mean?"

"There are several prophesies about Jack O'Neill. Perhaps long in the past there was another warning that some day such a scroll would be needed. A wizard long ago – a powerful wizard – could very well have set the scroll up for this very day."

"Maybe Gryffindor himself," Daniel said, relieved.

Bane shook his head.

"The scroll is older than Godric Gryffindor. Perhaps another ancestor."

"But a very powerful one," Zip said. "Because while it is easy to set magic into inanimate objects – such as portkeys and the like – it is very difficult to set them with spells designed to trigger at a certain moment. Such as in this instance when the incantation was read."

"Especially spells aimed at one particular person," Bane agreed.

Jack scowled.

"We don't know for sure it was meant for _me_."

"No, it very well could have been meant for some other descendant of the wizard who set the spell."

He didn't sound convinced, however, and Jack had to admit that he was probably right.

"What did it do to you?" Daniel asked, concerned.

Jack shrugged.

"Beats me. It said something about protection. Maybe _I'm_ immune to magic, too…"

Bane frowned.

"There is no real way to test that…"

Not without having someone cast a spell at him, anyways.

"Maybe it turned you into a wizard," Daniel suggested.

Zip shook his head.

"If that were the case, the Sanctuary would have ejected you the moment it happened."

O'Neill felt a wave of relief. The last thing he wanted was to become a wizard. He didn't say that, though. Instead, he looked around, wondering if there was another scroll waiting in the wings for him – or even Daniel.

"Are we done here, then?" he asked – more to the room than to the centaurs and Daniel.

Before any of them could answer, however, there was another muted light, this time from a shelf on the opposite side of the room as the shelf that had held the scroll Jack had read. Yet another scroll lit up softly, and again they walked over to it.

Daniel looked at it, and then at his friend.

"You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?"

Jack scowled.

"How would I know?"

He had _felt_ it, however. But he wouldn't admit it. Not even to Daniel.

"Pick it up, Jack…"

"No way."

He'd had enough spells for the day. His legs still felt wobbly from the last one.

"You cannot activate the magic if you do not read the incantation," Zip said, obviously understanding Jack's reluctance.

Good point.

O'Neill reached over and took the scroll from the shelf and opened it.

"What does it say?" Daniel asked, looking over his shoulder.

Jack frowned.

"Beats me. I can't read it."

He handed it to Daniel with another feeling of relief. Obviously he wasn't _meant_ to read it.

Daniel looked at the words carefully, but shook his head almost wistfully after a long moment.

"I can't read it, either."

"The what are we supposed to do with it?" Jack asked, annoyed.

As if in response, the scroll vanished from Daniel's hands and reappeared a moment later in Jack's. It glowed lightly.

"We take it with us," Bane decided. "If it were not meant to come, it would not have sought us out. Put it someplace safe, Jack O'Neill."

"Are you sure?" Daniel asked.

"It won't leave the Sanctuary if it isn't meant to," Bane said, nodding.

"Well, _we_ need to go," Jack said, rolling the scroll back up haphazardly and sliding it into his pocket. "Harry's still missing, and I want to find out more about this spell…"


	24. 24

_Author's Note: I haven't forgotten this story! Honest! This chapter will kind of skip around a little as I work to get everyone back into the same area... it can't be helped, though._

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"I don't suppose Voldemort gave you any idea what he has planned…?" Sirius asked Harry as they settled in the great hall. It was a fairly large group, and only grew bigger when the ghosts of the castle all joined them, interested in hearing what the Dark Lord was up to.

Harry shook his head and took a drink of the butter beer that Lupin had conjured for all of them.

"I never saw him," he reminded them. "Only the Malfoys and the Death Eater that caught me."

"And they didn't say anything?" Sam asked.

Harry shook his head again.

"No. Just the typical threats about killing me."

There was something to be said for how many times he'd been threatened, because Harry didn't look at all concerned about being the target of the man who was probably the most powerful wizard out there now that Dumbledore was gone.

Brandon Steele frowned.

"I still don't understand why the younger Malfoy would help you escape…" he said, speculatively. "From everything I've read, it's pretty far out of character for him."

Teal'c nodded his agreement.

"Indeed. If not for the fact that you made it to the castle unharmed, I would have expected a trap."

"There might still be one," Brandon said. "Can I see that wand?"

Harry handed over the wand that Malfoy said belonged to his mother, and the Headmaster from the American school took it, studying it.

"Think the trap's in the wand?" Lance asked, while everyone watched.

"It can't be a portkey," Steele replied, turning it over. "Otherwise I would have vanished."

"And so would have Harry," Sam reminded him.

"Not if there was a delay spell to catch the next person who touched it."

"Oh."

"So there's no trap?"

"I didn't say that," he corrected. "I just said it's probably not a _portkey_. It could have some other spell on it."

Of course magic spells were pretty much well out of Sam's area of expertise, so she didn't have much in the way to add. Minerva, however, reached for the wand.

"Let me see it," she said, pulling out her own wand. As Steele handed it over, she turned her attention to Harry once more. "Did you see him use it?"

"No."

"Did _you_ use it?"

"I apparated."

"Hmmm…"

She continued to study the wand, while the others continued to pelt Harry with questions about the place he'd been taken. The more they could find out about the place the better – especially if it turned out that it was Voldemort's main hideaway.

OOOOOOOOOOO

She finally fell asleep, sitting on the padded bench that was under the window where it afforded a fine view of the rose garden that she so meticulously kept. A garden that Harry had helped her with every summer – even though he hated every minute of it. Lily had loved roses, but she'd never told him that. She wondered now why she hadn't.

A gentle tapping woke her as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. She opened her eyes, and was startled into complete wakefulness by more tapping – which was coming from an owl on the other side of the window. Since it wasn't something owls did every day, and she could see that it held something on her leg, she hurriedly opened the window and allowed it into the room.

The owl held completely still once it lighted on the top of her dresser, looking over at Vernon, who snorted in his sleep but didn't wake up, Petunia carefully pulled the note from its leg, and as soon as the message was released the owl took flight again startling her once more and vanishing out the window when she bent to pick up the note she'd dropped.

_"Harry rescued from The Dark Lord. To ensure his safe return to you, please meet us in the park west of your home at your convenience." _

She felt a surge of relief and went to the bed to wake up her husband.

OOOOOOOOO

They thundered through the forest at a speed that made Jack's eyes water and Daniel hang on for his very life. Centaurs were not designed as riding creatures and it was obvious from their lumbering gaits – even at a gallop – and their broad backs that made it impossible to hold tight with legs that were already aching from the earlier ride.

"Can you even see where you're going?" Jack asked, reaching for Zip's sides when the centaur jumped over something in their path. The forest was dark, and the only light that Jack could see was coming from what might have been a false dawn that filtered through the trees – but that wasn't much.

"I can see fine, Jack," Zip assured him.

Since the centaur sounded like he was trying to concentrate on what he was doing, Jack didn't reply, figuring it would be pretty painful to run into a tree and not wanting to be the reason for it.

"We'll be at the castle in less than an hour," Bane said loudly enough for Jack as well as Daniel to hear him. "From there we'll make our plans for our next step."

No sense in trying to make any plans without the others being there – and Jack didn't think the back of a centaur was all that good a place for coming up with ideas anyways.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Severus Snape stood in his doorway watching the sky to the east intently. The bird had been sent off more than an hour ago and should have delivered its letter by now. The question was would she go? It was a gamble. Snape was a very good judge of human nature – despite the fact that so few people trusted him – and he knew that while it was clear that Potter's extended family didn't care all that much for him, there was always a chance that blood would call to blood when the peril was there, and he was counting on that happening this time.

He needed the woman, now, and couldn't go get her for the same reason none of them could get Potter. But if she left the house…

He sighed, and continued watching the sky, waiting for the owl to return.


	25. 25

The Dursleys all had a chance to look at the note, and Dudley shook his head.

"It has to be a trick of some kind…"

Petunia nodded her own agreement, much to her son's surprise.

"Otherwise he would have been brought back here – without a note asking us to come fetch him."

"Yeah."

Vernon Dursley was looking at his family as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing – and he couldn't. For so many years they'd pretended that magic didn't exist – had tried to stamp it out of Harry with cruelty and ridicule. Now they actually seemed to accept it, and he didn't like it.

"We should just stay here and keep out of the way," he told them. "Let the weirdoes figure out this all by themselves."

Petunia frowned, but Dudley nodded his agreement.

"We definitely shouldn't go to meet them…" he said. "Voldemort's not someone to be messing with from what the books say."

"He's dangerous," Petunia agreed, reluctantly. She was obviously torn, much to the surprise of her husband who had never seen her look so concerned when it came to her nephew. "I suppose we can wait until his owl gets back and send a message of our own – see if it's really a trap or not."

"What if she doesn't come back?" Dudley asked.

She sighed.

"I don't know. We'll just hope she does."

Vernon scowled; clearly he was hoping she didn't. He was wise enough not to say that, though. Instead he shrugged and wordlessly headed back to bed.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Master!"

Lucius Malfoy almost dropped the goblet he was holding, and he turned sharply, reaching for his wand automatically. His surprise only lasted a moment before it turned to disgust, both with himself for being startled and with the creature that had startled him.

"_Kreacher_! I've told you not to do that…"

He had half a mind to punish the house elf – even though it wasn't _his_, despite the fact that it insisted on calling him 'master' – but there wasn't really any time for that, and Kreacher was instantly contrite, falling on his face in front of Malfoy.

"Kreacher knows where Master's son is."

"Draco?"

Which was a stupid question since he only had one son.

The grubby house elf nodded, looking up fearfully. He wasn't about to comment on the question.

"He ran away…"

Malfoy took a step closer.

"Where is he?"

"At the Potion Master's house."

Lucius frowned. There was really only one person who the house elf would title that way, but he had to make sure.

"Severus Snape?"

Kreacher nodded.

"You saw him there?"

Another nod.

"What was he doing?"

Now the fearful look was full force.

"I don't know, Master. He was inside and I could not get close."

"Is he still there?"

"He was when I saw him."

"Get back there and keep an eye on the place. Make sure you see if he leaves – and where he goes."

The house elf nodded, scrambled to his feet and snapped his fingers. An instant later he was gone. Lucius Malfoy stared at the place he'd been, but his thoughts were far from the house elf. He knew where his son was, now, and knew that his own Master wanted that information. But to give it to him would be the same as turning his son over to the Dark Lord. His only son. As furious as the Dark Lord was, there was no doubt the punishment he had in mind for Draco's apparent defection was a serious one – and perhaps a crippling one, or worse.

He hesitated, but not for too long. The Dark Lord had ways of finding information; better ways than Malfoy himself did, and was probably very close to learning the location of his son without help. There was nothing to be gained by trying to hide the location, and if he told him there would never be another doubt in the Dark Lord's mind about where Lucius' loyalties were. Something that would come in handy later, no doubt.

It didn't make him feel any better, but it did keep him changing his mind as he headed from the small room he'd been in and down the hallway to the much larger den that his master had claimed as his own.

OOOOOOOOOO

The field around the cottage was quiet, with the dawn starting to break in the far distance, but not enough to even make odd shadows around the building itself. A small grove of trees hid the small form that watched the house, and there wasn't much for him to watch. The cottage was quiet and almost completely dark – save for a single light in one window that flickered, telling Kreacher that someone had left a candle burning and may or may not be awake near it – although he hadn't seen anyone inside and knew that neither of the two had left.

Unknown to the house elf – and to those he was spying on – there was another small form in the area, watching the watcher. This one was just as quiet and stealthy and watched Kreacher more than he watched the cottage. The occupants of the cottage weren't really that interesting to him, after all.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"My Lord…"

The interruption was soft and hesitant – not at all in character for Lucius Malfoy – but it was a bad idea to startle the Dark Lord like Kreacher had startled him. It could be fatal, for that matter.

Voldemort didn't even flinch – nor did he turn around.

"Yes, Lucius?"

"I… found Draco."

"Is he here?"

"No, My Lord."

"Where is he?"

"At Snape's. Kreacher's watching the place to make sure he stays there."

"I want him brought to me, Lucius."

"Yes, My Lord."

Malfoy turned to leave, but Voldemort called him back.

"Do you have any idea what Snape is up to, Lucius?"

"No."

"How would he be able to convince your son to stray from the path you've put him on?"

"I don't know, My Lord…" Lucius said, honestly. "Maybe he's using a spell on him – or a potion."

That was a thought, really. Snape was good at potions, after all, and there were many that could force a change in the way a person thought.

"Bring me Snape, too," Voldemort told him. "I'd like to find out."

"Yes, My Lord."

His knees weak and his stomach empty and cold, Malfoy left the room.


	26. 26

It was hard to hide the thunder of hooves from the ghosts of the castle, and only moments after Zip and Bane broke from the cover of the forest and headed for the castle, the ghosts were arriving in the great hall to let the wizards and witches – and Muggles – know about it.

"This should be interesting," Sam said, getting up and heading for the entrance.

They all followed her, with Teal'c placing himself right beside her – just because you never knew when there might be a trap in the makings, and the Jaffa was always suspicious – and they made it to the entrance just in time to see the centaurs rush up at a full gallop and come to a sudden stop, almost unseating their passengers.

_"Jack!"_

Harry wasn't concerned about being trampled by the centaurs. He hurried over to Zip before he was even stopped, and grinned, waving his hand excitedly. Carter had told him that Jack was worried about him, and he was just happy to be able to show him he was okay and had managed to take care of himself. With a lot of help from Draco Malfoy, a little voice in his head reminded him. Harry chose to ignore that.

Jack was just as pleased – and relieved – to see Harry. He slid off Zip's broad back, stumbling only a little from the ache of the ride.

"Are you all right?" he asked, looking for signs of injury.

"Yeah."

"How'd you get away?"

"With some help from Draco Malfoy…" Sirius said, coming up to them as well.

Jack frowned.

"Why is that name familiar?"

"_Lucius_ Malfoy…" Sam reminded him. "He's Draco's father."

Now the frown really kicked in, and he looked at Harry.

"Why would _he_ help _you_?"

Harry shrugged.

"He looked scared."

Jack looked at the others.

"A trap?"

Jack, of course, would immediately expect a trap. It was his nature.

Minerva shook her head, still holding the wand Draco had given Harry.

"If it is, it's incredibly subtle, because I can't find it."

"What did _you_ find out?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"You should have _seen_ that place, Sam," Daniel told her, coming over to join them, with Bane walking behind him. The archeologist was limping slightly but was too excited to allow the discomfort of the ride overcome all else. "It was incredible! All sorts of scrolls and spells and-"

"Daniel…" Zip said, softly, in a warning tone that reminded him the centaurs didn't necessarily want wizards coming to look for their hidden sanctuary. Which meant they'd prefer that those few humans that had been there would keep quiet about what was found there.

Daniel blushed, slightly.

"Sorry."

"We found a scroll," Jack said, answering Sam's question. "It's some kind of protection spell or something, but the writing was complete gibberish – even when we could figure out the words."

"An ancient scroll?" Minerva asked.

"Zip said it was," O'Neill confirmed. "And it looked old."

"The writing was fairly archaic," Daniel added.

"Did you bring it with you?" Lance Truman asked, reminding all of them that the American wizards were still with them, and wanting to help where they could.

Jack shook his head.

"I read it, and it disappeared and ended up back on the shelf it came from in the first place…

"He activated the magic in the scroll," Bane told them.

All the wizards took this news with different degrees of interest.

"This is the Course of the Blood spell?" Steele asked.

"We believe so."

"So the spell is _on_ you?" Minerva asked.

Jack shrugged.

"I don't even know what it's supposed to _do_. How am I supposed to know whether it's working or not?"

"Someone cast a spell at him," Daniel suggested.

Jack scowled.

"Perhaps a _benign_ spell," Teal'c said. "One that will give us some indication of what this spell is designed to do."

"And risk having some kind of backlash?" Lupin asked, shaking his head. "That's not a very good idea."

"I'll do it," Sirius said, pulling his wand.

"Hey, let's not be so hasty," Jack told him, still scowling. "I'm not in the mood to be a guinea pig."

Sirius frowned, confused.

"I'm not going to turn you into a guinea pig…"

Instead of even bothering to answer that, Jack pulled the other scroll out of his pocket.

"Why don't you guys see what you can do with this, instead?"

"What is it?" Arthur Weasley asked.

"Another scroll," Daniel said. "This one Jack _couldn't_ read. But it ended up in his pocket…"

"You _stole_ it?' Sam asked, looking at Bane.

"No, I didn't _steal_ it," O'Neill said, rolling his eyes and only a little exasperated. "It popped into my pocket on its own."

"How would it do that?" Teal'c asked.

"Beats me."

"But it did," Daniel told them. "We couldn't read it, and it just ended up in Jack's pocket."

"Probably the only person who can use it is the person it was intended for in the first place," Brandon Steele said. "My research suggested that ancient wizards and witches were capable of things that we can't do anymore. If Colonel O'Neill wasn't able to activate it, then it probably wasn't meant for him."

"That what _they_ decided, too," Jack said, nodding towards Zip and Bane. "So you guys just start trying to read that, and we'll see if it was meant for any of you."

And maybe they could start zapping that person with spells to see what it did, he added – to himself. Unless it was Carter, of course.

OOOOOOOOO

A loud banging on the door startled Snape out of a restless slumber. He woke instantly, every nerve aware and his wand in his hand before he could realize he'd reached for it.

_"Severus! Open up!"_

The voice outside the door made Snape frown, but he crossed the room and looked out the small peephole in the heavy door, knowing that if it were Voldemort or the Deatheaters they would have simply smashed their way in.

The figure was cloaked, but he knew the voice well.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"They're on their way here, Severus," the man said, urgently. "You need to leave or he's going to _kill_ you."

There was no doubting who he was referring to.

"How did you find out about-"

"It doesn't matter. Just get out and _hide_! And take the Malfoy boy with you if you want him to live to see another sunrise."

His warning delivered, the form pulled out a wand and vanished with a loud crack. Snape didn't waste any time trying to figure out where the information had come from. The source was trusted and reliable, and he knew he was in grave danger. And he absolutely had to live. At least a little longer.

He went into the bedroom to wake up Draco.


	27. 27

They all had a try at the scroll that Jack had brought back from the centaur sanctuary. First the wizards tried it, to no success, and then Sam and Teal'c – although none of those who knew the Jaffa's true nature really expected anything to happen when he took the scroll and tried to read it. But he wasn't the only one it didn't work for, and Sam shrugged as she handed it back to him.

"Beats me, sir… it might be for one of the Order who isn't here right now."

"Or one of the _Death Eaters_," Sirius said, darkly. "Maybe even Voldemort."

Minerva shook her head.

"I just can't believe that's the case. Why would _anyone_ want to leave something so potentially powerful in the hands of someone so twisted?"

"Not all of the old time wizards and witches were pure and pleasant," Arthur Weasley reminded her. "It could just as easily be the resulting spell of someone as evil as Voldemort himself – _or_ worse."

"So what do _we_ do with it?" Jack asked.

"Hold onto it, I suppose," came the answer. "It wouldn't have left the sanctuary with you if there wasn't a reason. We just haven't found that reason, yet."

O'Neill tried to hand the scroll over to him, but the wizard shook his head.

"Until something happens, you should keep it."

Jack scowled at that, but he didn't say anything.

"What do we do now?" Teal'c asked. "Things relatively calm right now, however it would not be wise to disband at the moment."

"We should get some rest," Sirius said. "Some of us have had a long day."

"And something to eat," Harry added.

His godfather nodded his agreement to that as well.

"I'd like a tour of Hogwarts," Lance said, looking at Minerva, hopefully. The other American wizards all nodded agreement, and she gave them a slight smile.

"Of course." She looked over at the members of SG-1. "Would you like to join us?"

Daniel and Teal'c shook their heads – they'd already been on a tour of the school, after all, but Jack nodded. He'd missed most of the tour the first time they'd been there, and he was too keyed up after the ride with the centaurs to really want to sit still – and feeling just a little nauseous which meant he didn't really want to eat. Besides, he was well aware of the fact that out of all the members of his team, _he_ knew the least about the place – which just wouldn't do.

"I'll go."

Sam surprised him by saying she'd like to go, too. She'd already been around the school, after all, and had a fine memory.

Minerva looked at Sirius.

"We'll meet back with you in the Great Hall."

The others nodded their agreement and they parted ways.

OOOOOOOOOO

The little cottage was in shambles. Windows broken, the doors smashed, furniture upended and littering the various rooms where each piece had been tossed aside in a methodical search for anyone who might be hiding among them. A dark man with hard black eyes turned to Lucius Malfoy.

"They're gone."

The senior Malfoy scowled.

"I can see that. Do we have any idea where they went?"

"No." He held up a cloak and handed it over. "We found _this_."

Lucius took it, but didn't need to examine it to know that it belonged to Draco. He'd given it to his son himself. Had even picked it out.

_"Master!"_

The squeaky voice was trembling and Malfoy turned to the door to see the House Elf that had brought him to this place in the first place crouched down by the broken door.

"Where are they, Kreacher?"

"They left, Master. I-"

_"I can see that!"_ Lucius roared, causing the three Deatheaters that had accompanied him to all turn his direction – and causing Kreacher to fall on his face in terror. "Where are they?"

"I don't know. They were warned Master was coming, and left in a hurry. They vanished before I could follow and did not mention where they were going."

"Was Draco with Snape?"

"Yes."

"He _must_ have used a potion on him…" one of the Deatheaters muttered. "There's no way that boy of yours would-"

"We'll find out when we find them," Lucius interrupted.

First, they had to figure out where they'd gone.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

_"Master!"_

Voldemort turned away from the small sphere he'd been looking at.

"What is it?"

"The _Order_ has the spell, Master."

The informant was shaking so hard his knees were practically ready to collapse, but his voice was steady enough to deliver his message.

"You're certain?"

"The Muggles went with the centaurs to get it. They were talking about it."

"Where is it?"

"At Hogwarts."

"I want that spell…"

"It's a _scroll_, Master. They all tried to read it, but it will only activate for the one it's intended for. O'Neill has already used one."

Voldemort scowled, his red eyes mere slits of purest evil. The informant swooned, his knees giving out on him and landing him heavily on the floor.

The Dark Lord ignored it.

"You're certain?"

"The fools were discussing it right in front of me without even realizing it. The Muggle read the scroll and the spell was cast."

"Right off the scroll?"

The man nodded.

"I've never heard of such magic, Master…"

Voldemort wasn't a teacher, and certainly didn't feel he had to explain anything to his underlings. Instead, he turned back to the sphere he'd been studying before he'd been interrupted. As if summoned, one of the others joined him in the room with the informant. Voldemort didn't even look up.

"Has the aunt been captured, yet?"

"She did not appear."

The evil eyes narrowed again.

"She's smarter than she looks, then."

"I could get a group together and force her out of-"

"No. _She's_ protected as well as Potter when she's in that house."

They'd have to think of something else. And it didn't take long.

"The uncle isn't related by blood. Bring _him_ to me. Take as many as you need to make sure it's done."


	28. 28

Vernon Dursley scowled when a knock on the door interrupted what was already a very uncomfortable breakfast. He looked over at his son.

"Go see if that's more of those weirdoes trying to trick us."

He glanced at his wife to see if she was going to react to the way he'd phrased it – after the events of the night before, he just wasn't sure any more what to expect from her – but Petunia didn't bat an eye.

The knocking came again, more insistently, as Dudley stood up and he hurried to the door in a grumpy mood. Lack of sleep coupled with someone pounding on the doorway too early in the morning had a tendency to do that to him. He opened the door, and saw two people standing there. One was a man of medium height with dark, long hair and dark eyes, and the other was a young man about his own age with pale hair and eyes and a frightened look in his expression. The man was dressed in a dark cloak that pretty much hid the rest of his outfit; the boy was dressed in rumbled slacks and a t-shirt.

"Is Petunia Dursley here?" the man asked before Dudley could do more than register their appearance. Even so, he had a feeling he should know who they were – almost as if he'd seen them before somewhere.

"Who are you?"

"Severus Snape," the man said without hesitation. "I need to speak with Petunia Dursley."

_Now_, of course, Dudley knew who he was – and who the boy was with him. He was just surprised that either of them would show up on his doorstep – and admit who they were. As far as he knew, neither of them were part of the Harry Potter fan club, and from what he'd _read_, Snape especially was a dangerous person to be anywhere near.

"She's busy," Dudley said. "Go away."

Dangerous or not, he wasn't going to let either of them in the house. He wasn't as stupid as Harry, and he wasn't going to let his mother be in danger just because Harry had enemies.

"She's in great danger," Snape told him, not making a move either direction. "You both are."

"We're not the ones running from the Order of the Phoenix," Dudley shot back, greatly daring, since he knew what his father would say if he'd heard the comment.

Snape didn't even flinch, although his eyes narrowed.

"You're running from a far more deadly enemy than I am, boy," he said. "If the Dark Lord gets hold of you, he'll use your blood connection to Harry Potter, and he won't care if you're-"

"Dudley, who's at…" Vernon Dursley trailed off when he saw Snape and Draco, and his piggy eyes narrowed as well when he realized from Snape's garments that they weren't his type of people. "What _now_?"

"He wants to talk to mom."

Uncle Vernon placed himself between his son and Snape.

"About what?"

"She's in danger," Snape said. "I was hoping to-"

"She's in danger because of you _weirdoes_!" Vernon snapped, interrupting. He stepped out onto the porch, using his size to intimidate as he had so very often in the past. "Get out of here and take your freaky clothes with you."

Draco shrank away, paling even further, but Snape didn't move more than he had to to keep from touching the Muggle.

"Sir, I assure you that I am not the one who is interested in harming your-"

"Get out or I'll call the police."

It wasn't a very good threat, since there was no way Vernon Dursley would want to draw any attention to himself or the weirdoes he had on his doorstep, but Snape stepped back, his eyes still filled with cold indifference.

"Very well. Come Draco, we'll-"

A loud crack interrupted him, and suddenly where there was only Draco and Snape there was now another man as well. He grabbed Vernon's arm in a rough grasp with one hand and with the other made a quick motion with the wand he'd been carrying in the other hand. A bolt of red energy shot out of the tip of the wand, directly towards Snape, who had grabbed Draco and pulled him to the side while pulling his own wand and shooting a stream of crimson fire at the man.

_"Hey!"_

Vernon ducked away, but the man's grip never relaxed, and his weight overbalanced him. With a curse, the man waved the wand again, but this time he vanished with another loud crack, and Vernon Dursley vanished with him.

Dudley stared in horror at the empty place that had only moments before held his father, but before he could do much more than whimper in shock, Petunia was at the door, alerted by the noises of the short battle.

"What's going on?" She quickly took in the strangers, and her son's frightened expression. "Where's your father?"

Dudley opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"The Deatheaters have him," Snape said. "Which means that very soon, the _Dark Lord_ will have him."

Petunia gave a soft gasp.

"What? Why? What could Voldemort possibly want with Vernon?"

"Absolutely nothing," Snape said. "It's Harry Potter he wants. Vernon Dursley is just a means to the end."

Petunia shook her head.

"Grabbing Vernon isn't going to do him any good. Harry hates Vernon."

"With good reason, from what I understand" Snape said. "But it doesn't matter. Somehow the Dark Lord has decided that he'll be of some use and sent one of his underlings to collect him."

"Thanks to _you_!" Dudley shouted, finally coming out of his shock. "You distracted him and made it easy for him. Voldemort probably sent all three of you."

"I assure you, boy, I had nothing to do-"

"Who are you?" Petunia interrupted.

"This is Snape," Dudley answered before Snape could have a chance to lie – or worse. "He's the Potions teacher at Harry's school."

"Severus Snape?" Petunia asked, looking surprised. "I remember you…"

"And I you, Petunia. Now, we need to discuss how to get your husband back."

"We need to get word to Dumbledore," Dudley said, not at all impressed by the fact that Snape knew his mother – and not pleased, either.

"Dumbledore's dead."

"What?"

Dudley looked just as shocked.

"He's dead?"

Snape nodded.

"Yes."

"Does Harry know?" Petunia asked.

"Of course. Everyone knows. Why do you think the Dark Lord is ready to make his final push? He knows there's no one to stand in his way."

"The _Order_…" Dudley started.

Snape sneered.

"Without Dumbledore they're unorganized and helpless. Potter's as good as dead. Unless you're willing to help me…"

Petunia frowned.

"You?"

OOOOOOOOOO

"Harry Potter!"

Harry dropped his roll into his milk, startled, when Dobby came rushing up to the table he'd been sitting at with the others. They'd gone to the dining hall to eat, and had still been discussing the scroll that none of them had been able to use. A short while later, they'd been joined by Minerva McGonagall – who'd turned the tour of Hogwarts over to one of the ghosts, just to make it more interesting for Jack and Sam.

"Dobby? Where have you been?"

"Watching, Harry Potter. Watching Kreacher."

Sirius frowned, standing up to get a better look at Dobby, who was on the other side of the long table they'd been sitting at.

"What about Kreacher?" he asked. "He's at the manor."

Dobby shook his head, his big eyes mournful.

"Kreacher has been informing for the Dark One," Dobby told them. "Spying on the Order."

"He can't do that!" Sirius roared. "He's mine."

"You told him to go away, Sirius," Lupin reminded him. "He took it literally last time. He probably still is."

Sirius scowled.

"I'll _show_ him literal," he muttered.

"Wait," Minerva said, holding up her hand. She looked at Dobby. "What has he found out, Dobby? What have _you_ found out?"

"The Dark One is looking for the Potions Master and the son of Dobby's former master…" Dobby said. "He sent his people to find them but the Potions Master escaped."

Sirius sat down.

"So Snape's in trouble with his Master huh?" There was a definite hint of satisfaction in his voice. "I can't say that that bothers me at all. I hope he catches him and flays him."

Harry couldn't agree more, but it was Teal'c who spoke next.

"If Voldemort is after the Malfoy child, then perhaps there was no trap intended when he helped Harry Potter escape."

Daniel nodded.

"Obviously he's in trouble for it now…"

"Good," Sirius said, vindictively. He couldn't really find it in his heart to feel all that much concern for Draco after the troubles the boy had given Harry.

"The Dark One has a new target," Dobby said. "He is sending his people after Harry Potter's uncle."

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry echoed, confused. "Why?"

Dobby shrugged, but Teal'c fully understood the workings of the evil mind. He himself had been subjected to one for years before breaking away from his own former master.

"Because he cannot get to Harry Potter directly. He has to go through a relative."

"He can do whatever he wants with Uncle Vernon," Harry said, although he didn't sound like he really meant it, and Daniel was sure he didn't. Harry had been through a lot at the hands of Vernon Dursley, but he couldn't wish death on him. Not deep down.

"They have him…" a new voice said from the closest entrance.

Everyone looked up at the new arrival and watched as he stumped across the room towards the table.

"What's that, Moody?" Minerva asked.

"They've got Potter's uncle. Just grabbed him from his front yard."

Daniel frowned.

"I thought they were protected at Harry's house?"

Lupin shook his head.

"Only Harry's _blood_ relatives – in this case his aunt and his cousin, since they're the only ones who have the same blood. His uncle would have been easy…"

"So what do we do?" Harry asked, looking a bit pale.

"Get him back," Minerva said, standing up. "With force, if need be."

Sirius frowned.

"It might help if we knew where to start looking…" he said.

"I know where to start, Sirius," she assured him.

"And if Voldemort already has him?" Daniel asked. "Are you willing to go against Voldemort?"

"If need be."

Now it was Moody's turn to frown.

"He's just a _Muggle_, Minerva," he said, with an apologetic nod to Daniel and Teal'c. "And not even a very nice one, at that…"

"Right now he's Voldemort's key to everything," Minerva corrected, sternly. "If Harry's aunt starts trying to find her husband, Voldemort could very well capture her, too. Then we'll have someone with Harry's blood in the hands of the Deatheaters – and that'll be the end of things. I know what he can do with a blood relative and so do most of you. Do you really want that to happen?"

"What to happen?" Jack asked, entering the room with the American wizards and Sam.

"Blood calls to blood, Jack," Lupin said. "If he had the right spell, Voldemort could use Harry's blood relatives to force a final battle."

"One we're not really ready for," Sirius added. "Despite all the plans we've been putting together."

Jack frowned.

"You can use the blood of a relative against a relative? Only if they're a wizard?"

"Anyone," Brandon Steele replied before the others could. "It just has to be someone with the same blood."

"Then why hasn't someone used mine against Voldemort?"

"Because it's a good way to get _killed_, Jack," Sirius said. "It's dealing with old magic and those kinds are the most potent and deadly. We just can't risk-"

"Old magic like this spell that is supposed to be some kind of protective spell?" Jack interrupted. "The one I just activated off that scroll?"

They all stared at him.


	29. 29

"I demand that you release me at once!"

The Deatheater who had grabbed Vernon Dursley didn't look at all concerned by the tone of Dursley's voice, or the threatening scowl he was giving him. Both of which had done well cowering those around him in his business and daily routine, but wouldn't do much against a fully trained wizard, really.

"You're in no position to demand anything, Muggle," the man told him darkly.

As he'd been speaking, he'd been roughly guiding Dursley down a hallway in a house that they'd entered only moments before. A house that didn't look anywhere near as large from the outside as it apparently was in the inside. Now he waved his wand with his free hand and a door opened in front of them to the right.

"You'll be lucky if you come out of this alive."

With that, he pushed Dursley into the room and slammed the door shut behind him. An instant pounding from the other side plainly said that Vernon Dursley wasn't going to accept what was happening to him meekly, but the very fact that the Deatheater simply turned and left was just as obvious a sign that the Muggle really didn't have a chance to escape.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"He's here, Master."

Voldemort didn't look up from the ancient book he'd been looking through. Instead, he simply nodded, as though he had already known. As far as his minions knew he probably had.

"Good."

There was a hesitation, and the Deatheater spoke again, timidly.

"Why not just kill him, Master? We don't need the Muggle, do we?"

Voldemort turned, and the man cringed, expecting a blow – or worse. It never landed.

"I want the boy. The Muggle is his uncle, and his aunt will seek help from the Order to get him back."

"She's a Muggle though… What does she know about getting in touch with the Order?"

Voldemort was too satisfied with his own cleverness to punish the man for his stupidity.

"She knows of the wizard world, fool. She knows where to find the help she needs."

"But-"

Voldemort frowned, getting a little annoyed despite himself.

"When she ventures out to get that help, she'll be taken. She shares blood with the boy – through her sister – and she'll be the catalyst in the spell that brings Potter to me."

Sensitive enough to his master's moods, the Death eater didn't ask any more questions. He just nodded obsequiously and left the room before Voldemort could remember that he had been one of those responsible for allowing the Malfoy brat to help Potter escape in the first place – which had caused the need for retrieving him again.

Voldemort didn't even notice his departure. He was already studying the book once more, frowning as he read, but still looking satisfied with himself.

OOOOOOOOO

Minerva was the first to break the silence in the Great Hall.

"We don't know that the spell you invoked from the scroll is one that would protect you from this type of magic, Jack…"

O'Neill shrugged.

"It seems like a lot of people have gone through a lot of effort to get this spell to me, Minerva. There's probably a pretty good reason why. This way makes as much sense as any."

It actually made a lot of sense. All the wizards in the room knew it, but none of them wanted to be the one to say it. If they were wrong, Jack O'Neill would most likely die – and none of them wanted to be responsible for that.

Sam frowned, though.

"I thought this spell kept him safe from magic…? How could you use another spell on him?"

It was Brandon who answered. The American wizard had researched the older spells a lot more than many of his European counterparts had, and it was probably one of the reasons that they'd been brought in on this in the first place.

"If we're right about the effects of the scroll spell – and without testing it we can't be one hundred percent positive we're right – then Colonel O'Neill isn't safe from magic. He's just safe from the dangers of the spells cast at him."

"He should still be able to use floo powder, for instance," Minerva said, nodding. "But no one should be able to try and transform him against his will, or try to injure him."

"If you are correct about the spell," Teal'c said.

"Yes."

"Then you really need to try this spell out," Jack said.

"You're not listening," Lupin told him from across the table. "The only way to try it out is to try to harm you – magically. We're all more than capable of doing magic that could kill you, Jack, and if the protection spell isn't what we think it is, then we very well could kill you."

"It's worth the risk."

"No it isn't," Harry said, firmly. He was well aware that the risk was to protect him, and he refused to let Jack get hurt over him. Harry had already lost Dumbledore, he didn't want to lose anyone else.

Jack scowled, and turned to Sirius.

"Throw a spell at me, Sirius. Something nasty."

The dark-haired wizard hesitated, but Jack's expression plainly gave no room for vacillation. Even more, Sirius agreed with Jack, and knew that if the situation were reversed, he'd be willing to take the risk, too, in order to protect Harry.

"Stand up," he said, getting to his feet as well.

"Jack…"

"It's okay, Harry," O'Neill answered, standing up and moving well away from Sam – just in case there was a ricochet or something. "Do it, Sirius. Make sure it's bad enough that the spell will kick in if it's there…"

Sirius hesitated again, this time because he wasn't completely certain which spell to use – and how much force he wanted to use behind it. He _liked_ Jack after all, and definitely didn't want kill him if the spell didn't work. So he needed a spell that wouldn't permanently damage him, and that could quickly be reversed if things went wrong.

Finally, he pulled his wand and pointed it at Jack, who couldn't help the urge to reach for a gun he wasn't carrying – even though he'd told Sirius to try it. It was just his natural sense of self-preservation getting in the way.

"_Engorio!"_


	30. 30

Petunia Dursley frowned in uncertainty. Snape was someone she knew she couldn't trust. Draco Malfoy was another confirmation of that. Especially since Dudley had read the books that _she_ hadn't, and didn't trust either of them any more than she did.

"How can I help you? And how will that get my husband back?"

Snape gave her what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile, but turned out greasy and sly.

"You carry the blood of Harry Potter, my dear. The Dark Lord wants to use your blood to locate Potter and compel him to a final battle. A battle he has no chance of winning, of course."

"Then you should stay _here_, mom," Dudley told her.

Snape scowled.

"If she stays here, The Dark Lord will kill your father, boy. Which won't bother him a bit, I assure you. If you come with me, we have a chance to get him back."

"How?" Dudley challenged.

"The Order of the Phoenix has contact with a Muggle. A _special_ Muggle."

"So?"

"This Muggle is The Dark Lord's _brother_."

When neither of them reacted to that like he'd expected, Snape rolled his eyes.

"They can use the Muggle the same way The Dark Lord wants to use you. Blood calls to blood, and if they can manage to convince this Muggle to help them, then they're going to have a chance at forcing the final battle with him."

Dudley frowned.

"I thought you sad they didn't have a chance to win?"

"If it was The Dark Lord and his allies against the Order they wouldn't have a chance. If it's only the Dark Lord, however, the members of the Order should be able to win."

"So he couldn't bring the giants, you mean?" Dudley asked. "Or the Dementors?"

Snape nodded.

"You're not as stupid as your cousin, I see. Without the Dementors or the Giants – or other groups of evil minions that you've probably never heard about – The Dark Lord _might_ fall."

"What about the Deatheaters?" Dudley asked, ignoring the insult to Harry. He'd called him worse, after all.

"They would be able to join the fight, of course. They're linked to the Dark Lord in ways you'd never understand."

"But _you_ would?"

Which was another challenge.

"What do you want from me?" Petunia asked, before they could get too far off the subject.

Snape smiled that greasy, sly smile again.

"I want you to pretend to be a prisoner. If I have you, I'm in the Dark Lord's fair graces again."

"Why would I care about that?"

"Because, dear woman, I can get to your husband and release him in the confusion that will ensue when the Dark Lord is pulled away. He won't know what happens once he's gone, and if he manages to _win_, I'll still be in his good graces when he takes power."

OOOOOOOO

He felt just a moment's hesitation – and it was the oddest thing he'd ever felt – but then felt himself starting to grow. Not a lot at first, just enough that his clothing was suddenly a little too tight, and his shoes were starting to pinch, but it was a definite change. And a noticeable one, because there was disappointment on several of the wizard's faces almost immediately. Apparently the protection thing didn't work after all.

Moody scowled, and jumped up, his wand already out.

"_Reducto!"_

Jack felt his shirt loosen a little, and started to turn to Harry, when Moody spoke up again.

"You idiot, Sirius… the enlargement charm isn't an offensive spell, and it can help or hinder. The protection spell won't stop you from casting it. The spell has to be a real nasty one. A serious threat, I imagine, before the protections step in."

He gave Jack a slightly apologetic look, and waved his wand once more, his voice suddenly harsh.

"_Crucio!"_

_That one_ Jack had heard before, and Voldemort had used it on him so he even knew what it did. He flinched, waiting for the pain to hit, and suddenly felt something slam against him, only to ricochet away. Moody yelped, and dropped his wand, grabbing his hand with a curse, and the others all came to their feet.

"Are you out of your _mind_, Alastor?" Sirius said, his face ashen. "You could have hurt him."

"Which is the whole point of the experiment," Teal'c replied, calmly.

Of course _he_ was calm, Jack thought, he wasn't the one who had been the guinea pig.

Moody shook his hand, and reached down and picked up his wand.

"He's right," he said. "The whole idea was to try and hurt Colonel O'Neill. If the protection spell hadn't kicked in, I would have stopped immediately and no lasting harm done. As it was, the spell was mirrored back at me – at my _wand_, actually – and it stung."

"Which proves the protection spell works…" Daniel said, impressed.

"Even more," Lupin added. "It works against one of the most dangerous offensive spells. If it's that strong, then it's surely enough to protect you against harm from the Bloodlines spell…"

"So what does this spell do, then?" Daniel asked. "It uses Jack to find Voldemort?"

"Blood calls to blood," Brandon Steele explained, looking at Daniel but well aware that not all wizards knew every spell – and this one was so ancient that it wouldn't have surprised him if none of them knew about it, really. "The blood lines will call to each other and basically locate all those who share that blood. In this case, it would also get any relatives on Colonel O'Neill's side, but we can get around that by tweaking the spell a little before we actually use it."

"Maybe just get it to focus on wizard blood Jack's related to?" Minerva asked, deferring to the American wizard since she was pretty sure he knew more about it than she did – and she knew _she_ knew more about it than any of her fellow Order members.

Steele nodded.

"With a bloodline coming from so far back, it wouldn't surprise me to find he's distantly related to more than just Voldemort, but the stronger the relation, the more powerful the search. Voldemort's his brother, so-"

"_Half_ brother," Jack interrupted.

"Half brother," Brandon corrected. "So the spell will be far more potent with him than it would be with say a distant cousin or something…"

"So when do we start?" Jack asked. Not that he was eager to have some crazy ancient spell cast on him or anything, but he wasn't all that great at sitting around and doing nothing. Besides, the sooner they took out Voldemort, the better. He'd just as leave Harry was safe, and was ready to get back to a normal life that didn't include being kidnapped by wizards and riding centaurs.

Minerva frowned and looked over at Brandon Steele, who shook his head.

"I'll need to study the spell a bit – especially if we're going to tweak it… unless you'd rather do it?"

She shook her head.

"I'd have to start the research at the beginning, since it isn't a spell I've ever actually studied in detail. If you know more about it than I do, then it'd be better for all around – and especially Jack – if you were the one who cast it."

Sam frowned.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

The headmaster of the American school gave her a reassuring smile.

"Of course. More or less."

"Colonel?"

Sam wasn't all that fond of the idea of putting him in danger – especially if that protective spell didn't work against this ancient magic, or if the spell wasn't dangerous enough or something.

Jack shrugged.

"Let's do it."


	31. 31

Vernon Dursley didn't have long to wait until the door opened once more, bathing the room with a chilling reddish glow that was only made more intimidating by the man who entered the room. If Vernon Dursley ever stopped to consider what an embodiment of evil would look like, this was surely what he'd have come up with. A cruel face with narrow red eyes and a small mouth that showed no sign of having ever known laughter – or even a smile. Surely this was the master of those whom he'd heard of the past year or so. Surely it had to be Voldemort, because Dursley couldn't imagine that anyone else could intimidate him so quickly.

For his own part, Voldemort simply looked at Dursley studying him for a moment. A sneer was his response to the obvious fear in his captive's expression, and he moved across the room with an odd grace.

"Vernon Dursley…"

Even his voice was evil; a dry hissing sound that reminded Dursley of the rustle of the snakes he'd once seen in a zoo.

"What do you want with me?" Dursley asked, trying to put up a brave front and failing miserably at it when his voice cracked in mid sentence.

"I want Harry Potter."

"I don't have him. I don't even know where he-"

"I know that," Voldemort interrupted. "But blood calls to blood, and his-"

"I'm not related to him by blood."

Voldemort scowled.

"I know."

Before Dursley could even move, the Dark Lord grabbed his wrist with one hand and pulled a dagger with the other. The knife gleamed dully in the odd red light of the room as it flashed, and Vernon felt a slice of pain as the blade slashed his forearm wide open.

"Blood calls to blood…" the Dark Lord repeated, dropping the knife and pulling his wand. "Not the wife, but the son…"

The evil one seemed to be in a trance of some sort, but it didn't really matter. Vernon Dursley was rooted in place by something other than fear and the hand gripping his wrist. An odd ache spread through his body, beginning in the very center of his being and increasing as it grew until he felt as if he were going to explode. The pain was incredible, like nothing he'd ever experienced before, and he sank to his knees, unable to hold himself upright.

"_The son!"_ Voldemort repeated, holding the blade up and allowing the blood that smeared it to drip onto the floor beside Dursley – who had now fallen over onto his side, his body writhing in agony as his own blood responded to the spell being cast on him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dudley Dursley snorted.

"That's not much of a deal…" he told Snape. "_She_ puts herself in danger, and you get all the benefits."

"She'll have a chance to rescue your father."

"And then get _killed_? How is that-"

He stopped in mid-sentence, his head suddenly cocking to the side as if he was listening to something only he could hear.

"Dudley?" His mother, like _every_ mother, knew immediately when there was something odd going on with her child, and Petunia stepped up, Snape and everything else forgotten for the moment.

Dudley didn't reply, although his eyes suddenly grew wide and he made a pained noise, like someone had punched him. Which matched the look in his eyes.

"Mom…"

He reached his hand out to her automatically, but gasped when he noticed that the hand was suddenly transparent. Petunia noticed as well.

"Dudley!"

An instant later there was a sucking sound, as if someone had opened a drain in the bottom of a giant bathtub, and Dudley Dursley vanished from the doorway of his parents' house.

Petunia whirled on Snape.

"What have you done?!"

Snape was stunned, but only for a moment, and then his expression was purely chagrined.

"The Dark Lord must have found the spell…"

"What spell?" Petunia asked.

"The one I was telling you about," Snape replied, annoyed. "The one he's going to use on your son to bring Harry Potter to him so he can destroy him at his leisure."

"We need to get to the Order," Petunia said.

"I thought no one could do anything to them when they're _here_?" Draco Malfoy said, speaking up for the first time since they'd arrived. "Isn't that what everyone says?"

Snape scowled.

"He's the greatest wizard alive, boy. He obviously figured out a way around it. Or found something to counter it." He looked at Petunia. "And we can't go to the Order. They'll never believe me if-"

"They'll believe me," Petunia interrupted. "And they'll do whatever they need to do to keep Harry from Voldemort, so they'll save my husband and son."

Snape snorted.

"You think too highly of Potter, my dear. No wonder he's so arrogant. The Order-"

"Will do anything they have to in order to save him," Petunia shot back. "Dumbledore told me about the Prophesy."

"Which one?" Snape asked.

"The one about Harry and Voldemort." She stepped out of the house, and took hold of Snape's sleeve. "Now, take me to the Order."

"I don't-"

"_Now!"_

Snape scowled again, well aware that now that Voldemort had Potter's cousin, he certainly wasn't going to need the aunt. Which meant that his brilliant plan was completely ruined. Which didn't mean that he was going to run back to the Order any time soon.

"I'm not taking you anywhere," he snapped. "There's nothing-"

She made an annoyed noise and whirled on Draco.

"Do you have a wand?"

Startled by the question, the young man nodded.

"Give it to me."

"What?"

"Give it to me," she repeated, holding out her hand. Her tone was that of an angry mother, and Draco wasn't immune to it. Especially as unbalanced as he felt just then. Without thinking he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand, handing it to her.

Snape sneered.

"What are you going to do with that?" he asked. "Threaten me?"

"Where is the Order?"

"Who knows?"

"Where?"

Rolling his eyes, but also a little amused that the Muggle thought she could bully him, he shrugged and played along.

"Most likely at Hogwarts. At least they will be until Potter is snatched by the Dark Lord. Then they'll most likely scatter, and the Dark Lord will win."

Petunia Dursley looked at the wand in her hand, and then at Snape.

"Not if I can help it."

She waved the wand, and to the shock of both of those standing in front of her, vanished with a loud crack.


	32. 32

They'd decided that the castle wasn't the best place to attempt the spell. For one thing, they weren't completely positive that the school's protections would allow the spell to even work given that apparating was impossible inside the school grounds and the spell was very similar to apparating – or so Brandon Steele told them.

"It's not exactly the same," he'd said – after studying the spell (which one of the others had summoned for him from his own study back in Texas), "but it's pretty close to it, since it's moving one person – or more – from one place to another."

"Or _more_?" Arthur Weasley echoed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you do it right, you can summon everyone with that particular bloodline…" Brandon had replied. "But you'd be crazy to try it, since it'd take more resources than anyone could imagine, and it'd very possible they'd all die in the attempt."

"From moving so many bodies through wherever they go when they're in transport."

Brandon had given her a pleased smile.

"Exactly. No one ever stops to wonder where we go when we apparate from one place to another, but there's a moment when we're not here, and we're not there. So we have to be somewhere."

"Makes sense to me," Jack had said.

Of course it was one of very few that day.

At the same time, Moody had warned them that while it was very possible that Voldemort would initially come alone, he had ways of immediately summoning his Deatheaters and bringing them to his location. They couldn't rule out that there was a possibility of a fight ahead of them and the only place in the castle that would be big enough for such a battle was the great hall – which was a terrible idea, really.

Harry confirmed that Voldemort could summon the Deatheaters. He'd seen it happen right in front of him, after all, and told them he wasn't sure how many there had been – but that there were probably more now that so many had escaped Azkaban.

"Best bet," Moody said, darkly, "is to make sure we get our own people here, first. _Then_ use that spell."

"All the _Order_?" Sam had asked.

"Every wizard we can trust not to give the plan away," Moody had replied. "We want to have the advantage of numbers."

"That is sound tactical reasoning," Teal'c said. "Hoever, if you wish to keep your plan a secret, why not make one of your fellows the Secret Keeper?"

Sirius had grinned.

"Brilliant idea."

It only took them a moment to select Molly Weasley for the job, and the spell was cast by Lupin as the others continued to plan.

"What do _we_ do?" Daniel asked.

Minerva frowned, uncertain.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you want _us_ to do?" Daniel repeated.

"Just stay out of the way," Moody said, dismissively.

Jack scowled. He didn't like anyone talking to Daniel like that – and certainly wouldn't allow Moody and the others to disparage his team as worthless, when he knew otherwise.

"We're not very good at just standing around."

Moody turned to Jack, his good eye locked on O'Neill while his other eye looked at the other members of his team, hesitating slightly at Teal'c before the auror turned his full attention on their commanding officer.

"You're _Muggles_," he said. "We don't need you."

Which was exactly the _wrong_ thing to say. Jack was short on sleep, was hungry and had precious little patience just then – not to mention he'd offered himself up as the guinea pig for their little spell, which was apparently as dangerous as it was necessary.

"We'll be happy to leave."

"No!"

Harry wasn't so much worried that Jack was thinking about not helping, he was worried that Jack was leaving. Before he could say anything else, though, Minerva stepped forward.

"Jack, Alastor's wrong. We _do_ need you. _And_ your team. But from what I understand, you won't be in any shape to help once this spell has been cast and unfortunately none of you know the others well enough to be able to distinguish friend from foe. We can't risk you killing a member of the Order just through mistaken identity. In a battle, you'd be more hindrance than help."

"However," Sirius said, speaking up as well. "You _could_ protect Jack."

Sam frowned.

"What?"

"If this spell is as bad as it's supposed to be, then Jack here is going to be weak, or hurting, or something, and won't be much use to himself much less us. It's very possible, though, that he'll be a prime target for Voldemort, since he'll know where the source of the blood that summoned him is. If he goes for Jack and the rest of us are busy with the Deatheaters, you guys can be the difference until we get free to help."

"Plus, you won't need to _know_ anyone," Minerva added. "Because you can bet if they're targeting Jack, they're enemies and not friends."

Daniel, Carter and Teal'c all looked at O'Neill, who scowled at the thought of needing protection – even when he trusted them more than anyone in the world. Any world for that matter.

"He has a point, Colonel…" Sam said, shrugging.

"I thought this protection spell was supposed to keep me from being hurt?"

"It'll keep the Blood spell from _killing_ you," Brandon said. "Probably. But it won't keep you from being drained by it."

"_Probably_?" Sam asked.

"_Drained_?" Jack asked at the same time.

"Not literally," Brandon said, answering Jack. "Just figuratively. You should be fine, but it might make you tired, or wear you out."

"Or worse," Moody said.

"_You're_ _not_ helping," Jack snapped.

Sam smiled, although she was one of the few who did. She knew him better than any of the wizards, and knew that he was going to agree to what they wanted. Which was why he was so annoyed.

"Fine," O'Neill said. "They can guard me. But they need guns."

Sirius smiled, relieved.

"I think we can take care of that. Just let me know what-"

"Harry Potter! _Harry Potter!"_

A small voice yelled from the other end of the hall, and a moment later Dobby came into view. With him, much to the shock of everyone in the room who knew who she was, was Petunia Dursley.


	33. 33

Harry was stunned by the sudden appearance of his aunt, and it showed. He half stood from the bench he'd been sitting on.

"Aunt Petunia…"

Sirius was just as surprised, but more vocal.

"How did you get here? What are you-"

"My husband and son have both been kidnapped out of thin air," she told the entire room. "You need to get them back for me."

"What?" Harry was still stupid with shock, but no one else was.

"This is bad," Minerva said. She turned to Molly Weasley. "Start calling in members of the Order, Molly. We-"

"Wait a minute," Lance said, frowning. "What's the rush all of the sudden? We-"

Sam turned to Petunia.

"Who vanished first, Dudley or your husband?"

Petunia stared at her, clearly wondering who she was and how she knew her son's name.

"Vernon."

Sam nodded, looking at the others.

"Voldemort's got the Blood spell. He used Vernon Dursley to get Dudley, and will use Dudley to bring Harry to him."

Minerva nodded, not at all surprised that Sam had figured it out. She was well aware that Carter was brilliant.

"We have a little time, but not much. The spell takes something out of the person who casts it, and we have to assume it was Voldemort who did it. We've got to make our play while he's recovering, or he's going to have Harry."

"Let's go then," Jack said, standing up.

"But my _husband_!" Petunia shouted, realizing that no one had even mentioned saving her family. "And my son. You _have_ to-"

"We're going to need everyone we have to fight the Deatheaters," Moody growled. He didn't even _like_ Dursley – having met him on more than one occasion, and seeing just what an awful person he was. No doubt his son was no better, to judge from how they both treated Harry.

"_You have to do something!"_ Petunia yelled. "They-"

"We _have_ to do something," Harry agreed, surprising most of the people in the room. "Someone must be able to-"

"We don't have anyone to spare," Moody said. "I told you, we're already going to be-"

"Dobby…" Jack turned to the house elf, who looked surprised to be addressed. "Do you know where Voldemort's hideout is?"

The big ears drooped, and the huge eyes turned mournful. The house elf knew that Harry Potter needed him to know but he didn't, and he was failing him. He didn't look at all worried about the prospect of being sent there, he just didn't know the location.

"Dobby has never been…"

Harry's face fell, but Daniel frowned.

"What about _Kreacher_?"

Now Dobby nodded, excitedly.

"Kreacher would know where it is!"

"A house elf against the Death eaters?" Moody asked sarcastically. "That's not much of a fight."

Sam shook her head, already figuring out what Jack had come up with.

"Not when you figure that Voldemort is going to call all his death eaters to him the moment he realizes where he is and what has happened. Once they clear out to come here, Dobby just has to find Vernon and Dudley and bring them back. He can manage that."

Dobby nodded.

"Yes." He gave Kreacher a sly look. "Kreacher would help – if he were so _commanded_."

Kreacher gave Dobby a look that would have curdled milk, and shook his head.

"Kreacher _won't_!"

Sirius scowled.

"Yes, you will."

There was an internal struggle as the foul little creature tried to fight what was obviously something he couldn't, and he screeched and threw himself to the floor.

Harry turned to Dobby.

"Make sure you wait until the Deatheaters are gone…"

The house elf nodded, reached down and grabbed Kreacher by the back of the filthy rag that served as clothing for him and dragged him off.

"Think he'll be okay?" Daniel asked concerned.

Minerva nodded.

"House elves are powerful creatures in their own right," she said.

"He's got guts, too," Jack said. "I saw him take on a whole group of them trying to save my ass from an ambush once."

Those who knew the story knew Jack had still been captured, but it was the attempt that counted to Jack. Before he could say anything else, however, a couple of people rushed into the Great hall, breathing heavily and already asking about the plan. Molly Weasley had summoned them, since she was the only one who could mention the plan to them, but they were clearly trusted folks – and maybe even members of the Order for all Jack knew – so they started explaining the plan to them while still others began to arrive.

"We need to hurry," Minerva said to Jack as she hustled him and his team away from the others and towards the exit. "We don't know how long Voldemort will wait…"

Harry and Sirius had both followed, Harry looking scared and pale – although no one was sure if it was the thought of being snatched by Voldemort out of thin air or if it was the upcoming battle – and Sirius simply looked resolute.

To their surprise, a small contingent of centaurs met them at the entrance to the castle, all armed and clearly ready for a battle.

"We will help to guard O'Neill," Bane said, reaching down and hoisting Jack up onto his back, easily. Others did the same with the rest of the group, while still more people poured in from the area surrounding the castle. So far, as near as Jack could tell, there were fifteen or twenty wizards. He didn't have a clue how many Deatheaters there were – and he didn't ask.

"To the edge of the forest," Minerva said from high up on Zip's broad back. She didn't refuse the offer of help from the centaurs – to do so would have been ridiculous and foolish. The centaurs were immune to magic, so who better to keep Jack and his team protected from spells that may be deflected?

Those that didn't know the plan – they just knew they'd been summoned – followed as the centaurs turned and charged for the largest flat area that was far enough from the school for the protections that governed the school to be nullified. This was where the Order and their allies would bring the final battle to them, and where – hopefully – Voldemort and his followers would meet their fate.


	34. 34

Dudley Dursley landed on the floor of the small room with a loud crash and a startled, pain-filled yelp. He was still for a moment, trying to catch his breath and take measure of any injuries he might have received, but before he could get beyond the fact that his heart was pounding faster than he could ever remember it going, a voice spoke up.

"It works…"

He turned, and saw his father sprawled on the floor next to him, with another man kneeling beside him, looking exhausted and jubilant at the same time. An odd looking man with cold, red eyes and a sneer that made his blood freeze.

The books he'd read hadn't prepared him for the reality of the Dark Lord, Dudley realized. Before he could say anything – assuming he could have anyways – Voldemort spoke again.

"It wasn't easy, but well worth the effort…"

Dudley looked from Voldemort to his father, who was motionless and silent.

"What did you do?"

The Dark Lord heaved himself to his feet with a visible effort.

"Muggle blood has its uses, boy. Yours is priceless."

"To get Harry, you mean…"

His voice only shook a little. Not because he wasn't scared, but because he was in shock that things had gone so bad so quickly.

Voldemort's sneer turned to a scowl, and his evil eyes narrowed menacingly.

"What do you know about that?"

Dudley bit his lower lip, pressing backwards against his father's silent bulk for what little reassurance he could get.

"Only what Snape said…"

"Snape…?"

It wasn't a question aimed at him, and the terrified teen didn't answer.

"Snape told you…?" Voldemort asked – again speaking more to himself than to Dudley. "What-"

"My Lord…"

They both turned at the sound of a new voice, and Dudley instinctively recoiled. Why, he couldn't have said, but the newcomer terrified him more than even Voldemort, and the way he looked at him – with a definite predatory gleam in his odd eyes – was enough to make every hair on the back of Dudley's neck stand up.

"What is it Greyback?"

Voldemort's voice wasn't as condescending as it had been – and upon hearing the newcomer's name, Dudley understood why. This was the most feared werewolf in the Wizard world! Not that Dudley knew any others, but he had read what had been written about Fenrir Greyback, and it was no wonder he reacted the way he had.

Greyback's next words proved his instincts correct.

"I smelled fresh meat…"

Dudley moaned with fear, and tried to make himself look even smaller.

OOOOOOOOOOO

The large rock looked an awful lot like an altar, Jack decided. It looked to be marble – although Jack was hardly a geologist so it could have been limestone as far as he knew for certain. Or even petrified horse crap. All he knew for certain was that when Minerva gestured towards it, he couldn't help the images of sacrifices that came to his mind.

Obviously Sam and Daniel thought the same thing, because as they were sliding down from the backs of the centaurs both of them gave him worried looks.

"Jack, if you'd lean up against the rock…" Minerva said. "That'd give you something to brace against later."

Which was a far cry better than if she'd told him to stretch out on it.

He nodded and sat down with his back against the sun-warmed side of the rock, and looked up at her.

"What do I need to do?"

Brandon Steele slid down to the ground, stumbling over to kneel next to Jack. His wand was out and he looked concerned – which didn't do a whole lot for Jack's confidence.

"You just need to sit still," he said.

"We need weapons," Teal'c said, looking at Sirius, who had joined the group as well – and looked as nervous as Harry did.

The biggest problem with that was that Sirius really didn't know what kind of weapons they needed. He didn't use weapons, after all, only spells. He racked his brain for a minute, trying to recall what kinds of weapons he'd seen the people in the secret base they'd taken him to wearing, and a moment later waved his wand almost uncertainly.

Three webbed belts appeared out of nowhere on the ground in front of them, each holding a holster, complete with a .45. Sam stepped forward and picked one up, noticing that it was warm and buckled.

"Where did you get these?"

"From three of the men at your base."

No time to really wonder what those three men were going to be thinking about having their holsters and side arms vanish into thin air. She buckled on the one she had taken, while Daniel and Teal'c each grabbed one.

"I was kind of hoping for a machine gun," Daniel said, looking at Sirius hopefully.

"Which one is that?"

"Stand back!" Brandon Steele interjected before any of them could answer.

Carter looked at Jack, her blue eyes nervous, and he gave her a slight smile.

"Relax, Carter… what's the worst that can happen?"

"You could be killed in a fairly horrific manner…" Moody replied, moving out of the way as well, and gesturing for the wizards who were still arriving to stop and form a sort of half circle around the area. The centaurs all stepped back as well – even though there was no chance any of them could be affected by the spell about to be cast.

Jack scowled.

"It was a rhetorical question."

"Oh."

Harry gave Jack a concerned look as well, but was distracted by a voice calling his name. He turned and saw Hermione Granger running up to him, followed closely by several other students from the school. Students ranging from all four houses in the school – although there were very few Slytherins, Harry noticed.

"What's going on, Harry?" Neville Longbottom asked, panting as he tried to catch his breath from the run to the field. "We-"

"_Blood calls to blood…"_ Brandon Steele said, drawing the attention of everyone in the area. The American wizard reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, then took Jack's hand and sliced his forearm wide open before he could pull away. Blood spurted, and O'Neill gasped.

"What are-"

Sirius grabbed Sam from behind before she could interfere, and shushed her.

"Watch."


	35. 35

Brandon Steele's face was a study in concentration and effort as he raised his wand higher, power emanating from him in waves that even Sam thought she could feel.

"_The brother!"_ Steele said, his voice hoarse with the effort of the spell casting.

Jack O'Neill tensed, his eyes closed and concentrating on something that was happening that only he could feel. The slash on his forearm still bled freely, but it wasn't what had his attention and Carter was afraid to speak now that she knew the spell was being cast for fear of distracting Brandon and making something go wrong. Instead she watched, holding her breath – along with almost everyone else in the clearing – while Steele took a deep breath and held it for a moment, then spoke again, his voice more powerful than before and commanding.

"_The brother!"_

OOOOOOOOOOO

Voldemort sneered at the obvious terror on the boy's face.

"Not just yet, Grayback," he said, silkily. "I need him alive for the moment. He's my key to Harry Potter…"

"After that, though?"

The creature – because Dudley couldn't force himself to even think of him as a _man_ – looked at him hungrily, and Dudley couldn't control the terrified moan that escaped his lips.

Voldemort nodded.

"When I'm through with him, he's all yours. But for now…"

The Dark Lord trailed off, his attention suddenly caught by something else. The sneer quickly became annoyance, and then a frown of obvious discomfort.

Grayback noticed immediately.

"My Lord?"

"It's nothing…" Voldemort said, trailing off once more. Suddenly a look of comprehension crossed his narrow features and turned quickly into one of disbelief.

_"No!"_

"What is it? What's-"

Voldemort groaned, pulling his wand from his cloak with great difficulty.

"No! It _can't_-"

With a blood curdling, furious howl of frustration the Dark Lord vanished with a loud pop.

"What was _that_?"

Voldemort's shouts had brought several of his minions to the room to see what was going on – and Wormtail had arrived just in time to see the Dark Lord vanish.

Grayback turned, surprised by what had happened – and completely clueless – but unwilling to allow it to show to the others, whom he considered well beneath himself.

"He's vanished. Call the others."

He swiveled on his heel and left the room, followed by Wormtail and a couple of others. Crouched in the corner, completely forgotten, Dudley Dursley shook with reaction and fear, while his father still lay slumped in a lifeless pile.

OOOOOOOOOO

There was no warning. With a loud _crack_ the figure of Lord Voldemort appeared out of nowhere, sprawling on the grass right beside O'Neill. He lurched unsteadily to his feet, tripping over Brandon Steele who had crumbled to the ground as well, and pointed his wand at the first person he saw.

Carter.

"Ava-"

_"No!"_

Sirius had been one of the first to recover – living on constant guard when he'd been on the run after escaping from Azkaban had made his reflexes quick – and _he_ already had his wand out. As Sam brought her pistol up to fire, Sirius shot a bolt of blue force from his wand; knocking Voldemort aside and sending him back to the ground. Carter's gun went off, the bullet hitting the rock less than a foot from Jack's head and ricocheting harmlessly off into the forest.

_"Gah!"_ Jack jerked to the right – way too late, of course – and reached for a gun he wasn't carrying. Since he felt exhausted and weak, it wouldn't have done him all that much good, but the motion was a reflex he himself had gained over years of combat.

Stunned, but hardly out, Voldemort uttered a sharp cry of his own and made a motion with his wand.

_"No!"_ Moody shouted, stepping forward to try and get a shot at the Dark Lord with his own wand. "Don't let him-"

A number of dark shapes forming around the field told them all it was too late. Before many of the wizards of the Order – and their allies – could react to all that was happening, a full score of Deatheaters were suddenly amongst them, looking just as shocked as many of the Order had.

"Kill them!" Voldemort shouted, scrambling to his feet and pointing his wand at Sirius. "Kill them all!"

The battle was engaged.

OOOOOOOO

"Kreacher will not do this!"

The surly little house elf was standing with his arms crossed over his grubby little chest, watching Dobby with hate-filled eyes. Dobby peeked around a corner, ignoring his companion for a moment.

"They have vanished," he finally reported.

"They have gone to protect their Great One," Kreacher told him, scornfully.

"We must save Harry Potter's uncle and cousin."

Dobby started off towards the entrance to the manor, but Kreacher didn't move.

"Will _not_!" he struggled, the compulsion that forced a house elf to do the bidding of their masters warring with the desire to help the Dark Lord deep within him. The ancient magic won, of course, and eventually he was compelled to do as Sirius had told him. With dejected steps, the grubby house elf followed after Dobby.

OOOOOOOOOO

Fenrir Grayback _wasn't_ a Deatheater. True, he _was_ a follower of the Dark Lord, but not even Voldemort could trust the erratic werewolf enough to tie himself into a bond with him. He didn't mind; as far as he was concerned the Deatheaters were no more than servants to the Dark Lord, while Grayback considered himself to be something of a lieutenant to him.

A side-affect of this was that Grayback wasn't included with the compulsion that brought all other Deatheaters to the Dark Lord's side when he called them. As those around him started vanishing in the corridor they'd been striding down, Grayback immediately realized that Voldemort had had the tables turned on him and was even now probably fighting the Order.

With an anxious howl the werewolf ran through the manor, trying to catch one of the Deatheaters before they vanished so he could find out where they were going – and could join the fight.


	36. 36

The field was in chaos. Had they had more time, the wizards of the Order could have planned better, knowing that Voldemort was surely going to summon reinforcements as soon as he'd realized what had happened. As it was however, they'd had to pull Voldemort with the Blood spell before _he_ had a chance to pull Harry – which would have been disastrous. As such, they'd barely had a chance to summon help of their own to deal with the Deatheaters, and even then they were still far from overpowering in numbers.

The Deatheaters were quick to rally around their master, each of them immediately picking a target as they did so.

It was instantly clear just what Minerva had meant when she'd told SG-1 that they wouldn't be able to separate friend from foe. Spells were being cast all over the area as the Deatheaters and members of the Order targeted each other and soon merged into a large queue of odd colored robes, hats and waving wands. Bolts of energy, shouted spells, yelps of pain or shock or surprise were all around them as SG-1 crouched near the large rock that Jack O'Neill was leaning against, watching as several of the Deatheaters launched an attack at Sirius and Harry – who was standing beside his godfather with his wand out, but had yet to actually engage the enemy.

"We have to do something!" Sam shouted as they watched one of the Deatheaters wave his wand and topple one of the Order. The spell hadn't been the killing curse – and there was no time on either side for Crucio, so no one was being tortured, but the charms and spells that were being put to use were obviously the more sinister of the choices the wizards had, because people where going down left and right.

"What?" Daniel asked, helplessly, looking all around them, and dodging as a bolt of energy – not unlike a staff weapon blast – came hurtling at them only to be blocked by the large bulk of Bane, who took the hit without showing any sign of discomfort. Of course, the centaurs were immune to the spells, so chances were it hadn't hurt him at all.

"Stay down!" Zip called out to them, also moving over to shield them. "You can't help!"

Another bolt came their direction, and this time it managed to get past Bane – who was also shooting arrows at those who were surrounding Voldemort (mainly to distract them since the Deatheaters had realized what was happening rather quickly and had set up a repellant charm to make the arrows miss their mark) – and crashed into the rock between Teal'c and Daniel, spattering them with broken shards.

"Sir!" Sam turned to Jack, who was clearly not completely there – obviously a reaction to the spell that had been cast on him. The scroll had protected him from being injured – even the gash on his forearm was hardly bleeding any more – but it hadn't kept him from being stunned by having been on the receiving end of what was powerful ancient magic. "We need to get under cover…"

"There _is_ no cover, Sam!" Daniel told her, shaking chips of the rock out of his hair. "Stay down…"

He had his gun, but didn't have a clue who to shoot.

"Sam!" Sirius spared a glance over at her to make sure she was still okay, but before he could yellp whatever warning it was going to be a bolt of red energy caught him square in the chest and he dropped without a word.

"_Sirius!" _

"Stay there!" Bane shouted, right before he stumbled, his front left hoof hitting a hole he hadn't seen. The centaur went down with a curse, and there was a loud snap when the leg broke. His bow went flying, and the quiver of arrows snapped almost as loudly as the bone had.

Zip rushed forward to aid him, but the Deatheaters had figured out how to deal with the seemingly unstoppable centaurs who were wreaking havoc in their midst. Another hole appeared, far too quickly for Zip to avoid it, and the centaur hit a hole exactly like the one that had felled Bane. Like Bane, he went down with a sickening thud, stunned from the impact.

Teal'c dodged a green bolt of energy and knelt down beside the dark centaur, who pushed him away – despite being in a lot of pain.

"Go guard O'Neill!"

Teal'c frowned, wondering why the centaurs thought it was O'Neill who needed the protection, but turned toward Jack – just in time to see him reach into his pocket and pull out a piece of paper. A piece of paper that was rolled up and crackled as he looked down at it.

Daniel was watching as well, his own gaze drawn there by Bane's warning. Unlike Teal'c, however, he recognized the paper immediately. It was the scroll that had insisted on leaving with Jack – and clearly it had discovered that the person it was meant for was in the area. It was glowing with a brilliant light that seemed to getting brighter and brighter as Jack held it.

"Jack, _no_!"

Unfortunately, that light was also a beacon, because every Deatheater in the clearing that didn't have an Order wizard in their sights turned as well.

Including Voldemort himself.

OOOOOOOOO

"The area is clear…"

Dobby turned and looked at Kreacher, who was standing stubbornly at the end of a narrow hallway.

"_Not_ going!"

Dobby snorted, assuming his companion was afraid, and trying again.

"There is no one here."

Kreacher sniffed the air, then gave him a scornful look, and shook his head.

"_One_ is still here. He will surely kill you."

Dobby shook his head, and started down the corridor, looking into each room as they went by, trying to find a sign of life. Reluctantly, Kreacher followed.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Don't be dead…"

Dudley Dursley was shaking his father's still form, trying to get a reaction from him, and sobbing raggedly to himself. Grayback had terrified him and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. He'd read the books, after all. He knew what the werewolf was – and what it liked to do to normal people. And not just Muggles, either. Even his own wizard-kind. He'd dodged a seriously scary bullet, that was for sure, and he didn't want to be there when whatever had driven them away returned.

Unfortunately, he couldn't get his father to wake up and refused to leave him where he was.

"Dad…" He shook him again, and this time Vernon Dursley made a muffled noise that might have been a sharp intake of breath. Dudley shook him again, but froze when he heard footsteps outside the door. A moment later the door, which was already ajar, opened a bit more, and Dudley actually had to bite his lip to keep from screaming in fright.

Huge ears, and then an ugly face and great big eyes peeped around the door.

_"Hello!"_

Now Dudley did scream.


	37. 37

There was only a moment's hesitation before the scroll vanished from Jack's hand, and was suddenly glowing brilliantly from where Voldemort now held it in the hand opposite the one that was holding his wand.

No one had actually seen it move, only disappear, but there was no denying the bright light that it was emitting, or the wonder in Voldemort's normally impassive expression as he looked at it.

"Don't give him a chance to read it!" Daniel yelled – pretty much to anyone who might be able to stop what was coming.

The Order wizards reacted immediately, all pointing their wands at Voldemort, while the Deatheaters replied just as quickly, wands turning towards those who posed the greatest threat to their master.

"_Kill him!"_ Bane bellowed to the other centaurs – those who were still on their feet. The dark centaur was obviously in pain, unable to get to his feet, and his foreleg was clearly broken, but he was hardly out of the fight.

Where the field had only moments before been chaos, now it was a melee the likes of which Sam had never seen before. Arrows flew from every direction towards Voldemort, who proved clearly that there was a reason he was probably the most powerful wizard around without Dumbledore to compete with.

"_Avifors!"_

Every arrow in the space between him and the centaurs suddenly turned into small birds and fluttered off – even as Voldemort turned his attention back to the scroll in his hand while still watching for threats that his Deatheaters couldn't handle. More arrows flew, but these turned into birds as well – and several centaurs found themselves on suddenly unstable ground that pulled them down or vanished under them completely. Startled shouts of pain or fury permeated the air, and the sound of several bows snapping as their wielders landed heavily on them.

The centaurs weren't the only danger, certainly. Several Order wizards were down – Sirius among them – but the rest were still up and actively attacking.

Of course, the Deatheaters weren't sitting by idly. Those spells that Voldemort himself wasn't blocking, the Deatheaters were. Curses and counter curses were flying, Wizards from both sides were dropping to the ground, writhing in agony, or staying completely still, and it wasn't looking good for the Order.

Their master saw all of this and more – even as he read the piece of paper in his hand and started to smile. His hand was practically shaking in barely suppressed glee as he started to re-read it, this time aloud.

OOOOOOOO

Jack lay stunned. He felt as if his insides had somehow tried to find their way out by going through every pore in his body – and had failed, so had simply hammered up against his skin for what had seemed to be hours, but was only moments. He was pretty sure that if he hadn't been protected by the spell that had been on the scroll, he'd probably be dead. The Blood spell had been painful, and he didn't know if it was because it was always supposed to be like that – a good reason not to use it on a relative – or if it had simply been that bad because Voldemort had been trying to fight it.

He _had_ tried to fight it, too. Jack knew that, since he'd felt his own blood practically boil within as it had called to Voldemort's – no denying that relationship, anymore, that was for certain – and had felt the struggle within as Voldemort's own blood had tried to refuse the summons. But come he had, and now the Dark Lord was in the middle of a battle that was probably as nasty as anything Jack had ever seen. Of course, he hadn't seen any wizard battles, so he wasn't sure if this was as bad as they came or worse, but it looked bad enough.

It was a burning sensation against his leg that pulled him out of the worst of the stupor he was in. His eyes dropped to his pants, certain that someone's spell had ricocheted off the rock or something else and had hit him. Instead, there was nothing, only an increasingly painful burning against his leg. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the scroll, realizing belatedly that that was the source of his discomfort, and wasn't really surprised to see it giving off a brilliant light.

It vanished only an instant later, and he heard Daniel shout – but was distracted by the pain in his leg and the discomfort he was in. Suddenly, though, it was all gone as a soft voice sifted through his mind. A voice he'd heard twice in a single day, on another crazy day – much like _this_ one was turning into. As if it had been sitting there in the back of his mind all this time, waiting to be remembered, the woman's voice came unbidden to his thoughts.

'…_But be warned, lord of the darkness, for you are not as powerful as you believe you are. A boy will come and challenge you, and only your own flesh and blood may prove to be your salvation…'_

'…_Lo! The brother of the Dark One is the key to his downfall. Yet, he can also be his salvation as well. The choice is his to make, for no man can force another to his destiny…'_

Salvation was the key, Jack knew, his mind working furiously to clear the cobwebs and think things through at the same time. If the scroll from the Centaur Sanctuary was truly intended for Voldemort – and it was pretty obvious that it _had_ to be – then the scroll could possibly be a spell that would prove to be the final kicker in what was looking to be a fairly even battle. And Jack had brought it to him. Proving himself to be his salvation.

Daniel was right. They couldn't let him read it.

The only problem with that was that above the sounds of a magical battle was the clear and somewhat thunderous voice of the Dark Lord.

"_No magic can harm, no magic will slay. The immunity within can win thou the day. The Brother hast brought it, and now wilt thou find, the spell-"_

"_Accio!"_

Harry Potter had been knocked backwards by a bolt of energy that had ricocheted off a protection spell and had been stunned, briefly. Because he'd been so still and lifeless – and because the battle had been raging so violently on both sides – no one had actually had a chance to make a move to check on him one way or the other. Now he sprang to his feet, wand out and his eyes wild.

And the scroll in Voldemort's hand flew from his hand and straight to Harry, the brilliant light fading as it moved.

"_No!"_

Furious, the Dark Lord leveled his wand at the boy, ready to finish the upstart who had given him so much trouble for so long, and then get his scroll back. For it was clearly his.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Fenrir Grayback stalked through the manor with purpose, but was growing increasingly frustrated. All the Deatheaters were gone! _All of them_! He'd figured that someone would remain. That somehow Voldemort would realize that he couldn't leave his safe house unguarded and would send one back from wherever he'd summoned them – no matter what was going on.

But he hadn't. The walls echoed back only the sound of his own footsteps, and the sounds of his soft growls.

"Where _are_ they!?" He shouted in fury. "Where-"

He cut himself off. A soft noise that would have escaped the ears of any human but had no chance of being missed by a werewolf drew his attention to a small door that led – as far as he could remember – to a closet. He frowned, and opened the door, well aware that there wasn't anything in there that could injure him.

All he saw was a small collection of supplies that hadn't been needed and had been stored in there. Stacked on shelves that went almost completely to the ceiling and left only the smallest of spaces at the floor.

Grayback sniffed. Then smiled a truly hideous smile.

"Come out, Wormtail…"


	38. 38

_Author's note: Okay, it's really tricky writing all the characters in the middle of a battle that's pretty much all happening at close to the same time. So if this chapter – and the others – seem to be jumping around from person to person, now you know why._

OOOOOOOOO

The rat was actually quivering when it crept out from under the shelving units, and the man he turned into was even worse.

"Where is he?" Grayback asked without preamble.

Wormtail wrung his hands together nervously.

"Near the school…" he simpered. "I… I came back to get help."

"In the _closet_?" Grayback asked sarcastically, not bothering to hide his contempt for the rat-faced man.

Wormtail flushed.

"I-"

"Take me to the school."

"It's a _trap_," Wormtail told him. "They're all over the-"

"Of course it's a trap, you idiot," Grayback growled, advancing on Wormtail, who cringed even further. "Take me there!"

He grabbed the shapeshifter's arm roughly and Wormtail pulled out his wand. Without even considering struggling to get loose – the last thing he wanted was to get bitten – he and Grayback vanished with a loud crack.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dobby looked over his shoulder at the sound of the apparating wizard, but didn't have time to worry about if it were someone coming or someone going. At the moment, he was well aware that the Muggle in front of him was terrified – and he didn't want that.

"I am Dobby," he introduced himself politely. "This is Kreacher. Dobby and Kreacher are here to-"

"You're house elves!" Dudley Dursley said, realizing even as he heard the names who and what they were. He felt a wave of relief – in the books he'd read, Dobby was a good guy, and he'd seen precious few of them lately.

"Yes," Dobby agreed. "Dobby-"

"You have to help me," Dudley said, interrupting. "Voldemort did something to my dad and he's-"

"Kreacher won't help the Muggle," Kreacher said, even as he was forced to enter the room.

Dobby scowled at him disapprovingly.

"Sirius Black ordered you to help, so you will. Take the fat one…"

"You've got to get me someplace where they can help my dad," Dudley said, moving aside as the really ugly one of the two – the one called Kreacher – moved towards them, and took his father's limp hand.

"We will take you to Harry Potter," Dobby said, both to Dudley and to Kreacher, who nodded reluctantly. "Come…"

Just in case the crack had been the sound of someone coming back, they couldn't afford to wait around and argue about it. The little house elf moved over to Dudley and took his arm, and they vanished. A moment later, Vernon Dursley and Kreacher vanished as well.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Avada-"

Voldemort didn't even get the words out. Three gunshots resounded through the noise of the pitched battle, startling everyone. Sam, Daniel and Teal'c might have had trouble separating friend from foe in the melee, but they knew that Harry was a friend and Voldemort was the foe. When he'd raised his wand up against the boy, there hadn't been any hesitation.

Three bullets struck the Dark Lord – all three in the chest – and threw him backwards without a sound. He fell to the ground, hard, and didn't move, and everyone in the field stared dumbfounded at the sight.

"_Kill them!"_

Lucius Malfoy was the first to recover, and even as he screamed the command, he waved his wand towards Carter, a spell mumbled under his breath in sharp contrast to his earlier shout. Green energy flew from his wand straight towards her.

"Sam!"

Before Jack could get to his feet a huge black form launched itself against Carter, knocking her violently backwards, just as the beam of green light swept by the spot she'd been. The black dog recovered quickly, launching itself at Lucius, but Teal'c was already there, knocking the wizard to the ground with a stunning blow.

"_Dad!"_

Sam rolled over just in time to see a young man with pale hair and rush up, dodging the curses and charms that were once more flying as both sides recovered from the sudden loss of the Dark Lord, but she didn't have a lot of time to realize that it had to be the younger Malfoy.

The rest of the Deatheaters were now focusing their attack on the members of SG-1, while the Order wizards were trying to protect them.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Harry flung himself backwards, staring at the inert form of the Dark Lord. It had happened so quickly, had ended so suddenly. Voldemort was dead. The Deatheaters couldn't possibly win without their leader to guide them, they just hadn't figured it out yet, he supposed.

The battle raging around him was surreal, as was the sight of the dead man in front of him. He just couldn't believe that after so long – so much worrying and fretting – that it had ended so quickly.

He was so caught up in it that he didn't notice the danger until it was far too late. No one had noticed the crack that had signaled the sudden reappearance of Wormtail, and no one had noticed that he hadn't been alone. Most of the Deatheaters hadn't even seen him run the first time, and they had far too much on their hands just then to worry about him. They didn't notice that he hadn't come alone, either.

Grayback left Wormtail cringing at the edge of the battle, and had immediately gone for the best target on the field. Who better to infect with a bite than the famous Harry Potter? Wouldn't that just be the crowning moment of his life? Ignoring the rest of the field, the werewolf slunk across the space between him and his prey, surprised at the sight of the Dark Lord lying still on the ground, but not really dismayed. The Deatheaters would need a new leader, and why couldn't it be him? Once the battle was over, he'd consolidate his position – and have his triumph over Harry Potter himself to prove that he was stronger than Voldemort – and more deserving.

Amazed that the foolish boy didn't even notice his approach, Grayback lunged for Harry Potter, teeth bared in a feral grin of bloodlust and anticipation.

And promptly found himself intercepted by the one man on the field who didn't have to fear his bite. Lupin struck him aside with a blow, knocking him away from Harry – who was fully aware of the danger now and rolling the rest of the way on his own – and then jumped on Grayback with a growl that was far more in keeping with his other form than with the one he was in just then.

The two went down in a tangle, and Harry found himself pulled away from that particular battle by the back of his shirt.

"Are you out of your _mind_?" O'Neill yelled, dragging him over to the rock – and the relative safety of Bane's arrows.

Harry flushed, well aware that for someone who wanted to be an auror when he finished school he wasn't doing a very good job of things.

"I'm sorry. I-"

Both of them were suddenly blown off their feet, crashing heavily against the side of the rock. Jack felt something whistle by his cheek, and felt a sharp pain that could have been a lot worse he was sure.

"Hello, boys…" Bellatrix Lestrange said, panting heavily and showing signs of the bloody battles she'd already engaged in. "And _good-bye_."

She raised her wand, pointing it at Jack.

"_Avada Kadavra…!"_


	39. 39

Reacting with just enough time to push Harry behind him, Jack took the full blast of the curse. The impact flung him backwards, taking Harry down with the momentum and landing the two of them in a pile. Harry scrambled off, rolling with his wand still in his hand.

"Jack!"

"_Crucio!"_

Bellatrix wasn't going to give him any time to recover, and Harry immediately felt searing pain tearing through his entire being. He dropped instantly, writhing in agony that he well remembered from the last time it'd been done to him.

"No!"

With an effort that belied his massive bulk, Bane twisted his torso around, his bow already drawn. An arrow shot through the air, smacking into the hand that held the wand. Bellatrix dropped her wand with a curse, nursing a hand that was suddenly gushing blood around the arrow that was still lodged in her palm.

Harry twisted around, wand at the ready now and voicing a spell to retaliate. Before he could say anything, Arthur Weasley and a wizard he only knew by sight were already there, the strange wizard sending Bellatrix to the ground with a crushing blow and Weasley sending a rope from the tip of his wand to wrap tightly around Lestrange.

Harry turned back to Jack, and was joined immediately by Teal'c, Daniel and Sam.

_"Colonel!"_

"Easy, Carter…" came a pained whisper, although O'Neill didn't open his eyes. "I'm okay."

He didn't _look_ okay, really, but he was alive – and that was enough for them.

Daniel gave a relieved sigh.

"I thought nobody survived that spell…"

"_Harry_ did," Sam pointed out, frowning down at Jack. She'd be a little more reassured if he'd open his eyes.

"It's probably that protection spell," Jack said, sitting up and looking around. The jolt from the killing curse actually had helped him pull his equilibrium together and he felt better than he had since Steele had cast that Blood spell on him. "Where are we?"

Harry frowned, confused.

"We're at _Hogwart's_, Jack. I thought-"

"He wants a situation report," Sam explained, interrupting. She looked around at the chaos that surrounded them, since the wizards of the Order and the Deatheaters were still going after each other – although their focus was no longer on the members of SG-1.

Lance Truman tumbled across their path, wrapped up in a battle with a small wiry man ion a flaming red cloak who was clearly trying with all his might to turn the American wizard into a frog or something much worse. Only a few yards away Lupin was entangled – literally – with Grayback, and blood was flying. Beyond that, Draco Malfoy was desperately shaking his father, trying to get him to come around, while at the same time he was deflecting the few spells that were sent his way. He was doing a good job of it, too, Sam decided.

There was too much to take in all at once, and Carter shook her head.

"I'm not sure, sir. I don't see Sirius, or – Hagrid is down, and so is Minerva, I think. There are a lot of-"

"Voldemort?" Jack interrupted, looking around.

"_He's_ dead," Daniel said. "We shot him."

Teal'c looked over at the fallen Dark Lord, but the man hadn't moved from where he'd landed. There were too many combatants between there and his position, but he'd feel better about pronouncing him dead if he had a chance to actually check his vitals.

Jack obviously felt the same way.

"We're sure?"

Daniel followed Teal'c's gaze.

"Pretty sure."

_"Watch out!"_

The voice yelled from the edge of the clearing, and everyone who wasn't engaged with an enemy just then turned at the sound. Including SG-1 and Harry.

"What the hell is _that_?" Jack asked, looking at a huge dark cloud that seemed to be coming directly towards the school, but then turned towards them.

Harry gave a shudder that Sam could feel as close as she was to him.

"They're Dementors…"

He jumped to his feet and pulled his wand out once more.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Where's Harry?"

Ron Weasley turned his attention from the approaching Dementors and looked across the field, which now could only be called a battleground.

"He's by that rock."

Hermione Granger whipped her wand around, driving back a Deatheater with a hastily spoken spell that knocked him off his feet – which had suddenly turned about twenty sizes larger.

"We've got to get to him!"

"What? Are you _crazy_? There's a _war_ going on here, Hermione, in case you hadn't noticed and we-"

"The Dementors are going to go straight for him," she interrupted. "We need to be there to help when-"

She was interrupted by a loud _crack_, followed almost immediately by another. Suddenly there were four forms sprawled on the ground in front of them – although two stood up immediately. Hermione and Ron recognized one of them immediately.

"Dobby!"

OOOOOOOOOOO

"What's a Dementor?" Jack asked, well aware that whatever they were it couldn't be good. Not to judge by the way everyone was tensing up around them – including the centaurs, who were all sighting every unbroken bow they had on the approaching cloud.

"They're bad…" Sam said, her gaze never moving from them.

Jack pulled himself to his feet, unwilling to face the whatever they were sitting on his butt hiding against a rock.

"What do they do?"

"They suck the soul out of you…"

"Well… _that's_ bad."


	40. 40

_"Harry!"_

They all turned and saw Sirius running for him, his eyes on the dementors that were approaching – and clearly targeting Harry to judge from their current trajectory.

"Get _out_ of there!" 

Like he had anywhere he could go that would be any safer?

Jack moved to stand between his team and the danger, but without a gun he didn't have much chance when it came to taking on soul-sucking flying creatures. For that matter Carter and the others all had guns, but O'Neill was pretty sure they didn't have that much of a chance against the dementors, either.

"We can't do anything, sir," Sam said, confirming his own thoughts. "We've got to-"

_"Expecto Patronum!"_

Harry's shout actually startled Jack, who whirled around just in time to see a jet of white erupt from Harry's wand. It formed immediately into what looked like a ghostly deer and charged at the approaching dementors. An instant later it was joined by several other white creatures, none of them appearing to be any more solid than the dementors themselves, but all the purest white in stark contrast to the bleak darkness of the dementors.

The stag exploded against the leading edge of the dark cloud of dementors and immediately shattered those closest to them. Right after it came the others, and what the stag hadn't stopped, the rest of them did. The darkness was dispelled almost immediately, and the dementors vanished.

The Order wizards had repelled the danger quickly, but the distraction almost proved fatal to many of them. Jets of force, fire and lightening of all colors shot through the air from Deatheater wands, some slamming into their intended victims and sending them crashing to the ground, others hitting centaurs who had managed to throw their immune bodies between those who would harm the Order wizards. These caused several grunts from the centaurs, but no injuries to either Order wizards or centaurs.

_He's vulnerable…_

The words were soft and gentle, almost a caress in his ear. Jack frowned, looking over at Carter, who was checking the load on her handgun and trying to watch for any immediate dangers – while Teal'c and Daniel did the same.

_Jack… you can kill him now and end it all…_

"What the…?"

He turned, scanning the entire battlefield. The call was so compelling that he had to see whoever it was, but he couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

_Over _there_… kill him…_

"Sir?"

He ignored Carter, and turned towards Voldemort before he'd even realized he'd done so.

"Jack?"

The other members of his team were now aware that something was up, even though they didn't have a clue what it was. O'Neill never froze in a battle but it certainly looked like he was frozen now. It was obvious, at least, that his mind was on something else.

_One simple motion… it'll all be over…_

He felt a searing pain that seemed to stab through his brain, and his legs buckled, bringing him to the ground less than twenty feet from Voldemort.

He's already dead…

_No. He's alive. Muggle weapons aren't destined to kill him._

What is?

_You…_

An odd looking knife suddenly appeared in his hand from out of nowhere. It was black-bladed, with illegible glyphs along one side of the blade. A blade that practically writhed in excitement at the thought of being plunged into the heart of Voldemort.

_Now_ he hesitated. That wasn't right at all. At least, it didn't sound right.

Me? No.

He wasn't a cold-blooded killer. Not really. Besides, _Voldemort_ was dead. He could see him quite clearly now, and the Dark Lord wasn't breathing.

_Jack!_

"Colonel?"

Harry and Sirius were there instantly, right behind Carter, Daniel and Teal'c.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked, reaching down for O'Neill's arm and careful to avoid the weird blade he was now holding.

_Don't let him touch you… he'll kill you…_

Jack jerked away from the wizard, and staggered back to his feet, heading once more for the fallen form of Voldemort.

"It's _got_ to be an _imperious_ curse," Harry yelled, grabbing Jack by the back of his shirt and trying to pull him back.

"Who's doing it, though?" Sam asked, catching him when O'Neill pushed him away with surprising force.

"I don't know. Jack! _Stop_!"

With the battle raging around them it was hard to see exactly what was happening every where at once, so it wasn't that much of a surprise that they all missed the arrival of the stranger. All of them were focused on the fact that O'Neill was walking towards the Dark Lord, and none of them had any reason to expect there was another party at play. One completely unexpected.

He watched in glee from the relative safety of the rock, concentrating with all his might, and focusing on his Muggle plaything.

_Finish him, Jack…_

No.

_Finish him!_

No!

O'Neill froze in place, standing above Voldemort's still form, and felt another searing pain jolt through his mind. This time he yelled, but he didn't go down. The blade tumbled from his hand, though, and Harry pointed his wand at it.

_"Accio!"_

The knife reacted immediately, zipping through the air towards Harry, who flinched and slowed it down before it could cut him. He didn't like the looks of the thing – but it was better that he have it than Jack. Especially right then.

Sirius frowned, and reached down to pick up the knife.

"Unbelievable…" he muttered, staring at the weapon in shock.

_Do it, Jack! _

"Stop!"

Shaking his head to clear it, O'Neill realized that he'd almost fallen for the same trick that Voldemort himself had tried – although this time it obviously hadn't been the Dark Lord who'd done it. Turning and looking, he could feel the residual link between himself and the person who had been trying to control him, and he saw a man looking at him from behind the rock he'd been protected by only a few minutes before.

A man he didn't recognize.

Everyone else looked as well, even Sirius, who had reacted to Jack's shout. He turned from the knife and found himself shocked once more when he saw the last person he would have expected standing there.

_"Regulus…"_


	41. 41

_Author's Note: So! I really hoped to finish this before the last book came out, but life has hit hard and that left me very little time for writing lately, so I'm not positive I can. But I'm still trying, I promise!_

OOOOOOOOO

Fenrir Grayback snarled, well aware that the fight wasn't going the way he expected it to. Truth was, Lupin was a lot stronger than he looked, and filled with a lot of hatred that was actually giving him an edge over the older werewolf. Fenrir was bleeding from several deep scratches, had a dislocated shoulder and a busted lip, and while Lupin hadn't fared any better with a broken thumb and a blow to the head that would surely result in a concussion, Grayback couldn't fight nearly so well with a dislocated shoulder, and the pain enraged him and slowed him at the same time. He knew he had to end the fight – and quickly – and had just the way.

The old werewolf threw his weight against Lupin, pushing him back, and snarled again. While Lupin was reeling, trying to get his bearings around the roaring in his head and the red haze that was trying to drown him, Fenrir reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand.

"_Avada-!"_

He stopped in mid shout, his eyes suddenly going wide, and Lupin took the opportunity to look for his own wand, which was much too far away to do him any good. He was done in, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

Before he even had a chance to feel regret at the opportunities lost, his attention was caught by Fenrir once more. Instead of finishing the curse – and Lupin – the older werewolf trembled where he stood, his back arched and his wand falling suddenly out of his hand. As if in slow motion, he fell forward, landing on his front.

And giving Lupin a view of the three arrow shafts that were sticking out of his back.

Shocked, he turned, and saw Zip, Bip and Rip all watching him, their bows already holding new arrows, which were drawn and at the ready. Fenrir didn't move, though, and Lupin let out a deep sigh.

"Thank you…"

Zip nodded, and turned his attention back to the battle, noticing that there were fewer Deatheaters standing than there had been. The tide of the battle was changing.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"You're Harry's friends…" Dudley Dursley stood up quickly, reaching over and pulling on Hermione's sleeve before the startled young woman could pull away. "You've _got_ to help me!"

Hermione tried to pull away and found his grip far stronger than she could avoid. Probably because of the look of desperation in his expression, however, she didn't level him with a spell.

"Who are you?"

"Harry's cousin. _Dudley_. My dad's been hurt and needs help and-"

"Dobby!" Ron looked at the large man who was sprawled in front of them – and at Kreacher, who was sulking and trying to root for members of the Deatheaters at the same time. "Are you out of your _mind_??"

"Harry Potter told Dobby to save his uncle and cousin," Dobby explained.

"So you brought them to the middle of a wizard's war?" Hermione asked, incredulously.

"They needed help…" Dobby said, shrugging helplessly.

Where else would he find so much help?

OOOOOOOOOO

Sam frowned, caught in the surprise enough that she actually ignored the battle that was starting to diminish around them finally.

"Your _brother_?" she asked, incredulously.

Sirius was no less surprised, of course. He nodded.

"Yes…"

It had been years, but there was no doubt about the identity of the man in front of him.

"I thought he was _dead_…"

Again Sirius nodded.

"So did I."

Harry was looking at the two of them, comparing his godfather with the brother he'd always heard was dead, too. They looked a lot alike and there was no denying the family resemblance. Before he could say anything, however, Regulus Black stepped out from behind the rock, his wand at the ready and his expression plainly saying he had something to say

"Fools," he snarled. "That's what I wanted you to think. All of you." He threw a contemptuous look at the still form lying on the grass. "Including _him_."

"To keep him from chasing you?" Harry asked, confused.

"To keep him from ruining this moment," Regulus corrected.

Jack looked over at Voldemort, who still hadn't moved.

"I don't think _that's_ going to be a problem."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Sirius asked at the same time. "Are you out of your mind? I thought you were dead!"

There was an ache in his expression – and in his voice – and Harry wasn't the only one to realize that Sirius was actually facing a long lost brother literally back from the dead. His only brother.

"I'm sorry, Sirius…" Regulus said, obviously meaning it. "I couldn't tell you."

"Tell me what?" Sirius asked, frowning.

The younger Black hesitated, but then looked over at the fallen Dark Lord, and sneered as a look of triumph crossed his features. Another glance around the field to make sure that all the Deatheaters remaining had their full attention on the fight and not him, and he stepped out from behind the protection of the rock.

"That I'm the one destined to bring down the Dark Lord."

O'Neill scowled.

"You just tried to make _me_ do it…"

Regulus gave him a contemptuous look.

"I didn't say I was destined to _kill_ him, O'Neill. Only that I was destined to bring him down. There is no question _you're_ the one intended to finish him."

"But we already did that," Daniel said. "It's too-"

"At first I thought _I_ was the Brother of the prophesies…" Regulus said, ignoring Daniel as if he considered him beneath response.

"_You_?" Sirius asked, torn between disgust and confusion. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I'm your brother, Sirius Black. _Black_… get it? The _Dark_ One?"

"You thought _Sirius_ was the Dark Lord?" Sam asked.

"Not the Dark _Lord_," Regulus said, shaking his head. "Most of the prophesies don't refer to Voldemort as the Dark Lord, though… they call him the Dark One… in my youth, I heard several – and my foolish pride led me to believe that it was _Sirius_, and I was the Brother. Destined to become famous and powerful through the fulfillment of such a destiny. The brother of the Dark One bringing down the purest evil..."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard…" Jack said.

"Not if your father keeps telling you that," Regulus replied.

"What?" This time it was Sirius who spoke up. "What are you _talking_ about?"

Regulus made a soft snorting noise.

"It doesn't matter, Sirius," he said, moving even closer to Jack, who was still standing near Voldemort's still body. "I learned soon enough that it wasn't me. Of course, by then I'd already ruined things, trying to get close enough to make my move and forcing _Voldemort_ to make one of his own. Which very near finished me – and my dreams of fame and fortune."

"You let him _think_ he'd killed you, though?"

Regulus shrugged.

"Why not? It gave me plenty of freedom to find out where I'd gone wrong… what I'd missed." He looked at Jack pointedly. "And _who_ I'd missed."

"You mean Jack…" Harry said, stating the obvious. "The real Brother."

Regulus scowled, but nodded.

"The one who's going to kill the Dark Lord so I can take his place."


	42. 42

"Take his place?" Sirius repeated, surprised. "You?"

Regulus, clearly somewhat stung by the response – undoubtedly hurt because it had come from his own brother – sneered.

"Why not? Voldemort was fated to be done in by a boy and a Muggle," Regulus said. "_I_ won't be so-"

"Avada Kadavra!" 

The green light flashed past Jack before he could even react to the sound of the voice behind him, and struck Regulus Black in the chest before engulfing him and vanishing. Black fell to the ground without a sound, his face shocked but very much dead. Everyone whirled, wands and guns out and ready.

"_No!"_

The only person who hadn't turned, Sirius was staring at his brother's dead body, wand in one hand and the black knife in the other. He'd only a moment before regained the brother he'd thought dead for so long – and now had lost him with sudden and painful finality.

Lord Voldemort was standing in front of them, holding his wand and very much alive. He didn't wait for questions, instead focusing on his first target – who didn't have a wand or a gun in his hand.

"_Corripso!"_

A bolt of lightening flew at Jack O'Neill from the tip of the wand, and Jack was far too close to avoid it. He managed to turn slightly, but when the bolt crashed into his side it was immediately repelled by the protection spell that had been cast on him and ricocheted off, heading toward Brandon Steele, who had just walked over to see what was going on. The American wizard dodged it barely in time, bringing his wand to bear as he realized what was going on.

He was only one of many, of course. Every Order wizard and their allies still standing had their wands out – or at least close at hand – and all of them heard the shouted curses. Wands turned their direction and those who weren't guarding disarmed Deatheaters all headed their way, warily.

"Fools…" Voldemort said, sneering much in the same way Regulus had only moments before. "Did you really think you could kill me so easily? _I?_ The most powerful wizard to have lived…"

"You're _not_!" Harry shouted, furious. "Dumbledore-"

"Is _dead_," Voldemort told him. "You're alone, now, Potter."

"I wouldn't say that," Jack answered before Harry could. He moved to stand between Harry and Voldemort, even though his hands were glaringly empty.

Predictably, Voldemort turned his wand on him – although he was still clearly watching the others.

"You're a constant source of disappointment and frustration to me, little brother…" The Dark Lord said. "You could have gone so far… even for a Muggle. All you had to do was-"

"Sell my soul to the devil?" Jack asked, interrupting.

Voldemort's expression hardened.

"Don't try my patience…" he turned, looking at Harry – or more importantly, the scroll he still held in his hand. "Give me the scroll, boy."

Harry looked surprised by the order. He'd actually forgotten about the scroll in the events that had followed him taking it from Voldemort. He looked down at it, and then back at the Dark Lord – who turned his wand on him now instead of Jack.

"Don't give it to him, Harry," O'Neill told him.

"Shut up!" 

The wand went back to Jack, but he'd already proven that he wasn't vulnerable to a magical attack – and Voldemort knew it. Which was one of the reasons he so desperately wanted that scroll back. If it worked that well for a Muggle, it'd be even more powerful for a wizard such as himself.

"Give me the scroll, Potter – and I'll let you live."

Harry was long past being that naïve. The hand holding the scroll tightened and the grip on his wand firmed.

"Never."

The attack was completely expected, and yet it still came faster than anyone could have imagined.

"_Stupify! Accio scroll!"_

Harry didn't have a chance. Even as good as he was, he was knocked back when Voldemort's first spell struck him, the hand holding the scroll going numb. An instant later, he felt it tugging from his grasp, but he wasn't able to do anything about it. The scroll went flying toward Voldemort, who wasn't watching for it, but was shooting spells off at everyone else in the area with a speed that made most of them freeze with shock and consternation.

Those that froze were the first to fall, none of them killed but all stunned as Harry had been. Those that managed to duck or throw up protection charms watched as the spells that had been meant for them struck down those closest to them as they were deflected.

Daniel and Teal'c had reacted quickly enough to dodge the spells – _they_ were used to being shot at, after all – and Carter had dropped instantly, her gun trained on Voldemort although she was watching O'Neill, who hadn't bothered to move. Because of that, she was one of the few who saw Jack turn towards Sirius – who had fallen backwards after tripping over a fallen comrade, but _wasn't_ stunned.

"Sirius!"

Voldemort caught the scroll, which grew brilliant once more in his hand. He didn't bother to read it, this time, since he already knew what it said. It simply had to be said aloud. His voice almost shrill with impending victory, he started speaking.

"No magic can harm, no magic will slay! The immunity within can win thou-" 

The black-bladed dagger was tossed through the air. Not at Voldemort, but at _Jack_, who caught it easily and with a quick motion flipped it so he was holding the blade. With an equally smooth motion, O'Neill flicked it almost negligibly at Voldemort, who hadn't even noticed.

"'_-brother hast brought it and now wilt thou find, the spell of the blood-'"_

He stopped in mid sentence, stunned as the blade struck him fully in the chest and pierced his heart.

"No…"

It was all he managed to say as the front of his robes blossomed in scarlet – the strange knife doing what all the bullets SG-1 had fired and all the spells the wizard world had shot off hadn't been able to accomplish. The scroll exploded in his hand, vanishing without a sound – only a blinding light – and his wand fell from suddenly lifeless fingers. The clearing was absolutely silent as they all watched him fall backwards, eyes open but not seeing, the knife moving with the faltering heartbeats for a moment until it fell still.

Voldemort was dead.


	43. 43

Sam stood up, and walked over to stand beside Jack. She handed him her gun and he covered her while she knelt next to Voldemort.

"Careful, Carter…"

She nodded, her hand sliding along the scrawny, hairless neck until she had her hand just under his jaw. Still watching him for any sign of life or deception, she felt for a pulse. A long moment later she turned, and saw that several members of the Order, Daniel and Teal'c had all walked over to stand beside O'Neill, all of them covering her with weapons or wands. Harry watched her from where he'd fallen, his eyes wide and hopeful.

"He's dead."

O'Neill frowned.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, looking down at the knife that was still stuck in his chest. The glyphs Jack had noticed before were glowing faintly, and the blade that had once been black was now shining platinum.

"Yes, sir."

A rousing cheer went up from everyone who heard her, and several people limped forward to congratulate Jack and pat each other roughly on the back with relief. O'Neill looked over at Teal'c, who was standing beside him.

"Watch him, Teal'c."

The big Jaffa nodded.

"Indeed, O'Neill."

If it _was_ a trap Voldemort would find Teal'c standing over him when he opened his eyes – and he'd wish that he _was_ really dead.

O'Neill turned and saw that one person hadn't gone in the same direction as everyone else. Sirius had fallen to his knees next to the body of his brother. Shoulders slumped, and head bowed, he was ignoring the shouts of happiness all around him. Jack walked over and put his hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about your brother…"

Not so much that the guy was dead, but because Sirius was obviously so hurt by the sudden events.

Sirius didn't look at him, but he nodded. He reached out and touched Regulus' cheek.

"I wish I would have known… I _should_ have known…"

Jack shook his head.

"Don't do that to yourself, Sirius. It's going to drive you crazy if you do."

"So?"

The wizard's tone was bleak, and O'Neill was certain his expression was, too.

"Too many people need you right now for you to allow yourself to fall into a pity pit."

Sirius looked up, his face red with anger, but Jack had already turned away and was walking over to Harry. He looked again at his brother's face, his expression twisted into a permanent sneer, and then sighed and stood up. Regulus had made his choice. Like Sirius had.

That was all there was to it.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Concerned that the boy was still on the ground, Jack frowned down at Harry, who had watched him approach.

"You okay?" he asked, looking for some sign of an injury he might not have noticed him getting.

Harry nodded, looking over at the corpse Teal'c was guarding.

"Just… stunned, I guess."

Jack knelt down beside him.

"Because we won?"

Harry shook his head.

"Because I thought _I_ had to kill him…"

"Why?"

"Because the prophecy said that I couldn't live while _Voldemort_ did, and _he_ couldn't live while I did… I just thought…"

"It didn't say anything about you doing the actual _killing_, though, did it?" Jack asked, interrupting. He was beginning to have a lot of respect for those things, and wanted to make sure that Harry wasn't the one destined to kill Voldemort. Otherwise, he'd take him over there right now and have him stab that knife back in – just to make sure.

Harry shook his head after a moment.

"I guess not… now that I think about it." He swallowed and looked over at Voldemort. "Good thing, too. He was a _lot_ faster than me. I'd never have been able to…"

Jack smiled.

"Don't sell yourself short, Harry. You were at a disadvantage, that's all. At least you didn't fall apart."

Before Harry could reply, they both heard someone yelling his name, and Hermione Granger came running up.

"Harry! You have to come, _quickly_!"

"What's going on?" Jack asked, afraid that there was bad news on the way – or maybe some other invading wizard army.

The girl looked at him, but then glanced over at Harry, her already serious face sad.

"It's your uncle…"

OOOOOOOOOO

Brandon Steele limped up to Jack only a moment after Harry had run off with Granger. The American wizard was battered and singed – like everyone else – but was in good spirits.

"Nice throw, Colonel."

Jack nodded.

"Thanks."

"I don't understand, though…"

"Don't understand what?" Jack asked.

"How did you know what to do?"

A cry from above drew Jack's attention, and he saw several birds in the sky. Most of them were owls of all sorts and colors, almost certainly bearing messages or getting ready to take messages to others, but there was one that stood out from all the rest. Fawkes screamed with a note of approval and landed beside Lupin, who had fallen to the ground with Sirius beside him, tending his friend. The werewolf was bleeding from several places, but was alive and speaking which boded well for a full recovery.

"Colonel? How did you know the knife would kill Voldemort?"

Jack looked back at Steele, who was clearly waiting for an answer.

"I didn't," he admitted.

"You were _guessing_?"

"It was an educated guess."

Before he could say anything else, Arthur Weasley came over, one eyebrow completely gone and a nasty cut across his chin. His robes were smoking and charred, but he didn't even seem to notice as he and the large black bald wizard beside him stopped close by.

"Jack. Minerva wants to talk to you."

O'Neill nodded.

"Where is she?"

The black wizard spoke up, his voice deep and sorrowful.

"She is dying."


	44. 44

Minerva McGonagall was laid out gently on an odd cot that floated about a foot and a half above the ground and was padded with something that looked to Jack like clouds. The scarlet cloak she was wearing was liberally splattered with another scarlet entirely – one Jack recognized easily. Her pale face was mute testimony to the fact that she was losing – or had _lost_ – a lot of blood. Around her was a small group of somber wizards and witches, and if Jack had had any doubt that she was dying, their faces would have told him it was true.

He didn't have to accept it, though.

"Don't you have any _doctors_?" he asked as he knelt down beside the cot.

"None that can counter the poison in her veins…" Molly Weasley said, stifling a sob.

Jack scowled, looking at the black wizard who had guided him over.

"What kind of poison?"

"She was fighting several Deatheaters and one summoned some kind of snake."

"It was a basilisk," one of the other wizards said.

"No, it wasn't," corrected another. "Otherwise all would have died. It was a giant snake."

"It doesn't matter," Molly Weasley told them, much as she would have corrected her children if they'd started to argue over something petty. "Whatever it is, we've tried everything we know, and we can't get the bleeding to stop – or the poison to purge."

_"Jack…"_

Minerva had opened her eyes as they'd been talking, and now she lifted one fragile hand – which he took instantly.

"Hey…" he wasn't the best when it came to bedside manner, but he tried. "Stay still, okay? We're going to get you better…"

She gave him a weak smile, and shook her head.

"I'm dying."

He scowled again; annoyed that she'd give up so easily, but then realized that they hadn't actually tried _everything_. Still holding her hand, he turned to Carter – who had followed him and was just walking up to the group.

"Go get that bird."

She gave him a blank look, but only for a moment. Then her expression cleared and she nodded.

"Fawkes."

O'Neill made a shooing notion, but she'd already turned and hurried off.

"I need to talk to you, Colonel…" McGonagall said, softly. "Dumbledore… he wanted me to tell Harry something if _he_ couldn't…" Her voice cracked, either from her injuries or from the reminder of the loss of Dumbledore, Jack wasn't sure.

"I'll get him."

She shook her head.

"I _can't_…"

"But-"

"Listen. It's about Severus."

Now his scowl turned into a confused frown.

"Who?"

"Snape," Daniel said, from the other side of the cot where he'd been watching.

"What about him?" Jack asked, curiously. "Don't tell me he's Harry's _real_ dad…"

She shook her head, managing a small smile.

"Nothing so drastic."

"What, then?"

"There's a reason for what he's been doing… how… how he's been acting…"

The dark wizard standing beside where O'Neill crouched scowled, but he didn't say anything. Clearly he didn't think there was any reason good enough for what Snape had been doing, but Jack didn't know the history of these folks well enough to judge that.

"You can tell him, Minerva…" O'Neill said, spotting Carter coming back his direction. Above her was a flash of scarlet, which turned into Fawkes as the phoenix drew closer. He landed beside Jack, giving him a slightly reproachful look.

McGonagall struggled to get a look at the bird, too, her expression slightly surprised.

"That's Fawkes… "

The phoenix made an odd noise, but immediately set to work on her, tears flowing easily and everyone watching and holding their breath.

OOOOOOOOOO

Harry stood silently beside Dudley, watching as his aunt sobbed silently into her husband's shirt. Beside Harry stood Ron, who was streaked with blood – most of it not his own – and Hermoine, who had tried every charm she could think of and still hadn't been able to do anything for Vernon Dursley. He'd simply died, his wife and son holding him, but just as helpless to stop him from leaving them.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked Dudley quietly to avoid disturbing his aunt's grief.

Dudley shrugged.

"Dad had lots of insurance. We'll be okay." He looked at the crowd that was gathered around the spot Voldemort had fallen. "Is he _really_ dead?"

Harry nodded.

"Jack killed him."

"I though _you_ were supposed to?"

"I thought so, too."

"You're _sure_ he's dead?"

"Yeah." He hesitated. "You know… if you need anything…"

"I'll call my freak cousin," Dudley said, rolling his eyes.

Harry looked at him uncertainly but there was just a hint of a smile playing through the sorrow in Dudley's expression.

"You do that."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"It's working."

Sam Carter nodded, smiling, as Minerva McGonagall regained most of her coloring back, and her breathing became much easier than it had been. She was still weak, but the poison that had flattened her so quickly had clearly been neutralized. Enough so that Jack gave a sigh of relief and let go of her hand.

"Don't ever do that to me again," he told her, scowling down at her as he stood up.

She smiled, looking tired, now, but not defeated as she had only moments before.

"Sorry."

Daniel grinned. He'd never have expected Jack O'Neill to make friends with a witch – especially one that was supposed to be crotchety and without a sense of humor, according to the one book Daniel had read – but it was clear that they did like each other, and that Jack had been very worried about her. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so gruff.

"Just don't let it happen again."

She nodded.

"I don't see anything like this coming again in the near future," she said, sitting up a little, with a lot of help from Molly Weasley. "Is it true you killed Voldemort?"

Jack nodded.

"I had help."

"What are you going to do with the others?" Sam asked, curiously.

"Who?" Arthur Weasley asked, limping up to stand beside his wife and giving her a quick hug.

"The Deatheaters."

"They'll be tried," Minerva said quickly eliciting a lot of scowls from several of the battered wizards and witches who were gathered to check on her condition. From the looks of them no one had managed to come out of the battle unscathed, and there were several brightly colored cloaked people on the ground who would never rise again.

"You can't put them in _Azkaban_, though," Sam said. "Where will you-"

"We'll figure out something," Mad Eye Moody said, scowling as he limped over to join them. "You let us worry about that…"

Carter shrugged, not at all offended by the cool reaction. She was well aware that he'd probably lost several people he knew and cared about today – and she might have replied the same way if the tables had been turned. She had her own suggestions but they'd wait until everyone had had a chance to lick their wounds – both figuratively and – maybe in Sirius' case – literally.


	45. 45

The smoke that rose from the pyre was dark and roiling. Those who watched avoided it, almost as if they were afraid that to allow it to touch them would allow the evil that had been the Dark Lord to contaminate them in some form. Jack O'Neill wasn't so superstitious. He was leaning against the boulder, watching with the others as the fire consumed the body of Voldemort – although he really wasn't paying that much attention to what was going on, even though he was aware of everything that was happening.

To the left Teal'c and several of the larger wizards were helping Hagrid patch up the centaurs. Since they were immune to magic, neither Fawkes nor any of the healers that had finally made it to the castle could repair the damage done to them in the battle. Instead it was Hagrid, who was large enough to set the broken legs as long as he had a little help, and Daniel and a couple others were liberally slathering cuts and burns with a salve that Hagrid swore would have them healed in a matter of days.

To O'Neill's right, McGonagall was talking to Harry, out of earshot to Jack, who suspected that she was having the conversation with him that she'd wanted Jack to have. He didn't know what was being said, but Harry's posture was tense throughout so it couldn't have been all that cheerful a topic.

The Deatheaters – those who had survived the battle – were all gone. Moody and a large contingent of wizards from the Ministry of Magic – whatever _that_ was – had taken them to an undisclosed location. Of course, Jack hadn't asked, so it might have been disclosed to someone. A blonde young man who looked enough like Lucius Malfoy that he had to be his son or nephew was standing uncertainly by himself, looking furtively at each person who passed him as if expecting them to say something unpleasant.

And in front of him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of the fire against his face, Voldemort burned.

"Sir?"

He turned, and saw that Carter had come up behind him without him realizing it. And wondered how long she'd been standing there.

"Hey, Carter. How's Sirius?"

"He says he's fine. One of the wizard healers fixed him up."

"And the Weasley kid?"

"Minor injuries. Nothing that wasn't fixed right away."

O'Neill grunted and turned back to the fire.

"Sir?"

He didn't turn this time.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Carter."

Which was his way of keeping her at arm's length and she knew it. Which meant that he wasn't really okay.

"You sure?"

He nodded, but didn't answer aloud, and she knew the topic was closed. At least until someone else brought it up – and Carter wouldn't mention it to anyone, so they'd have to do it on their own.

She left him alone, going over to see if there was anything she could do to help Hagrid.

OOOOOOOOOO

He was still standing there watching the flames when Fawkes joined him, the bird announcing its arrival with an odd song-like call. Odd enough that Jack looked up just in time to see him come swooping in and land on the boulder right beside him. Looking back at him, Fawkes put his head right by O'Neill's hand, clearly wanting to be scratched.

Still very wary of the bird's beak – he'd seen the Discovery channel and knew what birds could do with those things – Jack hesitantly reached out and ran a finger along the bright feathers, expecting to get bitten at any moment. There was always the chance he hadn't read the bird's body language correctly after all. When the phoenix crooned at the touch he added another finger and scratched a little more firmly.

"_You're_ pretty amazing…"

Fawkes closed his eyes.

"He's the only one of his kind, you know."

Jack turned and saw that Sirius had joined him. He didn't stop scratching.

"I know. Daniel told me."

Or maybe it had been Carter…

Sirius leaned a shoulder against the rock.

"I have to admit, I wondered why Dumbledore had given him to you when he'd died…"

Jack shrugged.

"No idea. I don't even like birds."

Fawkes opened his eyes and looked at Jack reproachfully.

"_Didn't_ like birds," he corrected.

Sirius smiled as the phoenix closed his eyes again.

"How are you doing?" he asked, making O'Neill scowl. He hated it when people asked that. Especially when he didn't even have a scratch on him – and he'd already shaken off the effects of the Blood spell.

"I'm okay."

"It couldn't have been easy…"

"What?"

"Killing your own brother."

Jack hesitated.

"I didn't kill my _brother_. I killed a guy who just happened to have the same father. A guy who was damned determined to kill a lot of people I know and like."

Sirius nodded. He'd pretty much looked at it that way, too, but he'd made the opening in case Jack had wanted to talk it out. Apparently he didn't feel the need to.

"Did the healers take a look at you?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Got the whole '_can't be harmed by magic spells'_ thing going on, you know?"

"Yeah. It's _permanent_, by the way. At least it is according to Brandon."

"I can't imagine I'll need it again. Voldemort's dead and the Deatheaters who lived through the day are going to be locked up, right?"

Sirius nodded again.

"They're going to turn the lower levels of Gringott's into a prison. They'll _never_ get out."

Jack didn't have a clue what a Gringott was, but he nodded.

"Good riddance."

"Yeah. But there _are_ other evil people in our world, Jack. Voldemort was just the worst of them. There's always the chance that someone escaped who might want to settle the score for you killing him."

"I'm not going to hide, Sirius."

"I know. Just watch your back, okay?"

"Of course."

"And take care of Sam."

"Yeah."

Like he could say anything else to that?


	46. Epilogue

"Colonel…"

Hammond gave Jack an annoyed look – which he then transferred to the bird that was perched on the edge of the table, its claws scoring deep gashes in the once exquisite finish.

"Sorry, sir."

"_Most_ people leave their pets at home when they come to work…"

Fawkes gave Hammond a look that was just as annoyed as the one the General had given him, and then promptly ignored him, preening his brilliant feathers with his beak.

"Sorry, sir. He followed me."

It wasn't like it was all that easy to keep your magical, singing, healing bird home when he didn't want to be there, after all.

"Can't we find him something else to sit on?"

"Actually, general," Daniel said, speaking up. "They perch."

"What?"

"Birds…" he explained, realizing from the little vein that was beginning to pop out on Hammond's forehead that he didn't really care for the correction. "They, um… they _perch_…"

Sam hid her smile, but not before Jack saw it. He gave her an admonishing look, but she wasn't cowed by any means.

"Colonel? When are you going to see your friends again?"

_Friends_ was a polite way to refer to anyone from the wizard world.

"I should be seeing Harry today, sir, if all goes well."

"Good. When you see him, have him find out how to keep him away. _Please_."

"Yes, sir."

Of course, if something happened and Fraiser needed him there… well, that would be another matter entirely. Hammond had never seen anything like he'd seen when the bird had shed tears on one of his wounded lieutenants and had healed her on the spot.

Ignoring the battered table as well as he could, Hammond looked over at Teal'c.

"Please continue the briefing, Teal'c."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Harry Potter was standing next to the fireplace when Jack O'Neill arrived. He had to admit that for a Muggle, Jack was getting pretty good at using floo powder, because when he came through he walked out of the fireplace like he was coming out of the room next door. Even Harry sometimes stumbled.

"Hey, Jack."

O'Neill smiled.

"Hi, Harry. How's it going?"

"Good." Harry watched the fireplace, but no one else appeared. "Sam isn't coming?"

Jack shook his head.

"She's visiting with Brandon Steele and those guys. Wanted to check out the American version of a wizard school."

"Oh." He sounded a bit disappointed, but Jack wasn't surprised. He knew Harry had a bit of a crush on his second in command. So did he. Although he'd never admit it, of course.

"She'll be by next time, most likely."

Harry grinned.

"Good."

Just then Sirius walked into the room, and echoed Harry's smile when he saw O'Neill had arrived.

"Jack! You're early."

Harry shook his head.

"He's right on time. You're late." He gave O'Neill an amused look. "Sirius has been distracted lately."

"Yeah?" Jack looked over at Sirius. "Everything okay?"

Black nodded, but it was Harry who answered.

"He's taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes this school term."

"Wow… that's... great."

Sirius smiled.

"_You_ don't know what that means, do you?"

O'Neill scowled.

"Sure I do."

He didn't, though, but wasn't going to admit it. When he got back to the SGC, he'd ask Teal'c – or Carter if she had returned from Ashton's.

Sirius gave him a knowing look, but didn't press. He had Jack pretty well figured out by then and knew that he'd go back and ask – and come back next time well briefed.

Are you ready?" Harry asked, not pressing, either. Not because he had Jack figured out, but because there was something else on his mind. Something _far_ more exciting – at the moment, anyways.

Jack hesitated.

"I don't know, Harry… it's really _not_ that good an idea…"

"Are you kidding? It's _brilliant_. Ron and Hermione are going to help…"

O'Neill looked over at Sirius for some help of his own, but the wizard just smiled.

"You promised."

Bah.

He scowled, but it was true. He _had_ promised. But only because he hadn't really expected to have to do it.

"Fine," he said, finally, giving up. "Bring on the broomsticks."

How hard could it be? Besides, if he got lucky, the things wouldn't work for him anyways.

**The End!**

_Author's note: So! It's over. I know I promised to have it done a lot sooner, but I just couldn't do it. Hopefully it was worth waiting for, and I'll try to do better on whatever I do next. Let me know what you think – if you're of a mind to._


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